Little Moments
by ZombieJazz
Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.
1. A Change

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Jay cradled Mattie. At that point he knew he was working way harder to calm himself than he was to do any sort of calming of her. She was fine. She was working on drifting into a complete milk coma. And that was likely a good thing. It meant she might not even notice he was gone. That she'd just sleep through most of the next four hours and by the time she decided to start squirming and squawking again that him or Erin would be back there with her.

But even that knowledge – or hope – wasn't doing anything to make him put her down and relinquish control and get back to the hospital – as much as he knew he needed to be there and that his stalling was pushing him pretty close to being late. Assuming the doctors and access to the OR was actually running on time. But Erin would definitely be pissed at him if he wasn't back in time. And he'd likely never forgive himself if he wasn't there for Eli – and Erin – when they were taking in his infant son for the first of what sounded like was probably going to end up being many eye surgeries.

To make it worse – their babysitter was Hank. Which was technically fine. He knew that the guy had raised kids and dealt with babies and grandkids. He knew Hank knew how to deal with medical conditions and emergencies. And that if anyone was going to watch out for their kids, it'd be Hank. He was likely about as close to second-best Eli and Mattie could get when him or Erin couldn't be with them. But maybe that was thing – it felt like a real second-best type situation.

And it was just hard. It was the first time where it actually made sense to leave Mattie. Up to that point she was still having to go in for her own doctors' and various therapist appointments so much, that it almost pissed Jay off that they'd decided to release her. Separate the twins and just make the fucking juggling act more complicated for him and Erin too. Split the whole family up. And likely set up Mattie to be on a completely different schedule – and even farther ahead of Eli than she already was – by the time he got home. Though, they were both trying to kind of maintain at least the eat/sleep schedule the NICU nurses had going with Mattie so that her and Eli might still kind of match up when he got home. Fuck, if they didn't match up, Jay was pretty sure they were going to get even less sleep than they were now. Not that either of them were getting much sleep now. The one of them that spent the night home with Mattie actually likely sleeping less that the person who stayed with Eli right now. At least in the NICU the nurses helped with all of it, and didn't necessarily wake you if you'd managed to pass out when feed o'clock hit.

Right now Hank was just standing there and staring at him – at them. Jay couldn't read his look but he also wasn't trying to. The less he looked at him and let himself process that Hank was their best bet and best helper right now. Hank. And that they should be grateful for that help while it was there – however much longer he was caught up in administrative leave. As soon as he was back on the job and they had to work out this juggling at that much more – it was going to be even more complicated. And rather than standing there coaxing himself into putting Mattie into her bassinet and heading to the hospital, he'd likely be the one having to stay home with her while Erin was watching over Eli – alone at the hospital – on days like this. Because it wasn't like they had a lot of other people to ask to help with this. Or other people they'd trust.

Hank glanced at his watch and gave him another look.

Jay gently bounced Mattie against his chest, rubbing at her back and swaying with her. Being home – almost exclusively alone – with your newborn preemie, who wasn't even up to her original due date yet, was a completely different ball game than her five weeks in NICU. And just completely different than what he'd even considered bringing their twins home would look like. Jay had never fully considered there would be a circumstance where they would be bringing one baby home and the other was in the hospital. That him and Erin would be apart and figuring out how to do the new baby at home thing individually too.

"Umm …, so we really want to keep her on the NICU's feeding schedule," he told Hank. Again – because he wasn't oppose to repeating himself on this point – or pretty much any other when it came to his kids. "So every four hours," he pressed again and it got a smack from Hank, which he ignored. Jay glanced at his own watch and inwardly sighed. He needed to make himself go. "So, next feeding is at two. You wake her at two, you start the clock at two."

Hank just kept looking at him. No comment.

"Not when she's done feeding," Jay emphasized – again. "When you wake her. She's doing pretty good at sticking with that schedule but there's been a couple times where she's sleeping more like three and a half hours. So if she wakes up and is fussing at three and a half, feed her. But then start the clock on the next four hours when you do. We don't want to get her too out of whack. But the three and a half hour haul seems more to be her night feed. So you should probably be okay."

He got another smack at that.

"Umm …," Jay just ignored it and swayed a bit with Mattie over to the kitchen counter. "So, Erin typed out all the instructions about how to prepare her bottles." He gestured over at some of the paraphernalia they'd bought and been given for this whole bottle thing that seemed way more complicated than he'd ever anticipated too, especially with the special formula they were having to give her to try to keep her putting on weight. "It's really important it be the right temperature or it's really going to screw up her insides."

Hank gave him a look. "Realize I've done bottle duty before."

It was a statement – not a question. But Jay gave him a look right back. "Think some things have changed in the past fifteen to twenty-five years," he provided.

Hank nodded at him. "Think I can manage watching her sleep and giving her a couple bottles," he graveled at him.

"Yea, so," Jay said and wandered back over into their living room area that had pretty much exploded with baby stuff. He gestured at the bassinet that had taken up temporary residence there. "It's likely best if you just stay down here with her. She gets kind of fussy about the dark and quiet upstairs. I think she's just used to the activity and twenty-four hours light in NICU."

He actually got a small sound of acknowledgement about that from Hank.

Jay gestured over at the TV he already had set up on ESPN as background noise as a substitute for all that machinery and monitoring equipment and movement in hallways and medical staff in-and-out. He was starting to wonder if Mattie really would be absorbing all the sounds and she'd end up like Eth, knowing every random statistic about baseball and the Cubs ever. Or that it was going to be Mattie who'd be his sport buddy. Though, he thought he'd rather be taking her to Hawks games than the Cubs or Sox. But it was the World Cup he had on right now – and he'd really done maybe too much exhausted soul searching on if this was setting her up to be a soccer fan and how he'd feel about it if either of them wanted to play soccer. Then he'd had the thought that Eli maybe wouldn't be able to play and then had to stop and remind himself about Eth and RIC. But it all just caused a fucking lurching feeling in his stomach and tightness in his chest that he felt guilty about and horrible about and didn't want to think about on too many levels. And had switched gears to just thinking that if they wanted to play when they were little – he'd have to volunteer to coach.

And it was just all so fucking stupid. He was in some kind of exhausted delirium at this point.

"Ah, yeah," he stumbled again and lifted at some of the random crap he'd thrown into her bassinet when he'd shifted to feeding and holding her. And then answering the door and dealing with Hank – and still trying to get himself out the door. "So she seems to settle better with the TV on. Don't play with her too much after feeding her. You can try the mobile," he added and knocked it back into an upright position over the bassinet. "Or these things," he added and dangled one of the little rattle, teether, texture, crinkly things in his general direction. It got another smack.

"Jay," he rasped with this sternness. "We'll be fine. Go be with Erin and your son."

Jay hummed his own little acknowledgement. "She's pretty good," he said. "She really only fusses when she's hungry or needs a change." He shifted Mattie a bit, readying to put her down, and then muttered himself, "Shit."

He brought her back flush against his body and gave Hank another look, before reaching for the change pad draped over the couch and setting it on the floor.

"She needs a change," he told the guy. But then he shook his head and sighed. He knew if he changed her, Mattie was going to be wide awake again and wanting to be held and swayed before she started to drift off again. He wasn't going to have time to do that – and he knew too that he'd have trouble making himself leave (even more than he already was) if she was fussing.

He looked at Hank – waiting for him to offer to take care of it. But the offer didn't come.

"Can you handle this?" he asked, and pointed off at the box of diapers that also had taking up occupancy in their living room.

For all the time they'd put into getting the nursery ready, they were nearly eight weeks into having the kids and hadn't yet made anything that resembled a real use of it. It wasn't even being used as a storage center. It was just too much trouble to be going up to grab stuff when the baby was wailing downstairs. And, he'd learned within the first three days of having Mattie home that it wasn't worth trying to make her sleep in there. She'd pretty much decided she hated the dark and quiet up there. Didn't matter if he left the blinds open or the lights on or put on the night light or cranked the music box or left his phone in there playing supposedly soothing baby white noise. The nursery definitely wasn't cutting it compared to her comfort level with their room at NICU. And he'd also considered what kind of long-term implications that was going to have with like sleep habits and getting personal space to themselves in the evenings as the twins got older. And it was probably going to be even worse with Eli. Though, his sleeping was all screwed up too at nights now that Mattie wasn't there. They could both tell their sibling wasn't sleeping in the next crib anymore.

Hank just glanced over at the box – and the fucking disaster zone their living space had become. Jay suspected that he was going to get back that night to find the place completely reorganized. He saw how Hank was with his own living space after Henry was taken home. And how he still barked at Eth about picking up after himself – for something as simple as a glass left on the coffee table or the tablet and homework sitting in the corner of the dining table. Everything had a place in that house – and the bullpen. This 'mess' was likely going to be driving Hank nuts. It was Jay too but at least right now he knew where everything was and it was within reach when he was alone with a squawking, squirming baby. So he really hoped Hank didn't decide he was going to be some kind of uninvited maid while he watched his granddaughter. The thought actually made him think he might press Erin to come home that night. To deal with her dad – and to sleep on a real bed. Or at least couch. Besides, Jay thought he was going to have as much trouble pulling himself away from Eli's bedside after his laser surgery as he was putting down Mattie right now.

"She's going to need her diaper changed," Jay put to him more directly. "Eat, sleep, poo. That's pretty much what she does right now."

That got another smack. Jay eyed him.

"You know how to change a diaper …," Jay said. He tried to keep it in a 'said' statement and not a question, as he tried to wrack his tired mind. He was sure he must've seen him change Henry's diaper at some point. He must. And he really doubted from what he did know about Hank's wife that she'd be the kind of person who would've tolerated doing all the diaper duty. That wouldn't even be realistic. How would that even be possible.

And why didn't they fucking thing to ask that? They got the guy the training for baby CPR and her discharge instructions for her breathing. He'd seemingly happily (as much as Hank was ever happy) come in for that training session at Med. But they fucking just assumed he could change a diaper. He'd raised three kids. He had a grandkid already. Should've they asked that? Was his daughter going to be spending her day sitting in a pile of shit (and not just the crap spewed across the whole living room)?

"Not in this situation," Hank graveled.

Okay, another inward sight – of relief. "Okay, well, she's not as small as she was so—"

"Know how to change a preemies diaper," Hank cut him off. "Haven't changed her diaper."

Jay stared, still not quite processing. He was going to have to get a coffee or energy drink or something before Eli's surgery or he wasn't going to hear what the hell any of the doctors or Erin were saying to him. He'd be fucking useless. Thought he'd dealt with shell-shock before. Fatigue and exhaustion before. But baby shell-shock and exhaustion is a whole different beast – that even the Rangers don't remotely accurately give you any fucking sense and preparation for.

He was sure too that Hank must've watched him and Erin or the nurses change both the babies. It seemed to happen like seven times a day.

"Okay," he managed. "So now you get to. I really need to—"

"Haven't changed a girl's diaper," Hank put more directly.

And Jay stared again. Blankly. And then he glanced at Mattie. She was almost completely out. He sighed, though, and gestured at Hank to come over to the change pad.

He put Mattie down carefully – and she definitely wasn't almost asleep anymore. Her eyes pooped back open and she started her stretching and squirming. But he made himself get up and go and grab a clean diaper. Hank had managed to get on his knees in front of Mattie – and was already completely ignoring the don't over-stimulate her when she's almost asleep rule. She was getting a whole lot less sour face than Jay had been getting the past twenty minutes. And he was tickling at her belly before unsnapping her onesie. At least he had that down.

Though, Jay kind of got it. He thought he'd be leery about changing a girl too. But ended up being Erin who was more worried about it than him. That she didn't want to be the 'one responsible for her getting her first UTI.'

She seemed much more comfortable dealing with Eli. Which was fine. Mattie was a squirmer – but she didn't consistently piss on him, which Eli seemed pretty committed to doing every time he had changed him. Erin had the whole right temperature, cover it quick thing down to a better science than him. Not to mention for someone who lacked a penis she had a whole lot more commentary on not aggravating his foreskin with the wipes and which way Eli's dick should be pointing when the diaper got strapped around him. She'd then felt the need to back-up her apparently expertise on boys' diapers with about Eth and diaper blow-outs with explosive poop and errand upward pointed penises that resulted in everyone around him getting soaked with pee coming through the waist of the diaper.

He held out the diaper at Hank. "It's not that complicated," he said.

He actually thought it was way less complicated than all Erin's requirements about supposedly proper boy baby diaper changing. The nurses had pretty much only presented a single piece of common sense advice. Though, he wasn't sure Hank wanted to hear it, given the smack and the look he got at the complications comment.

But Hank took the diaper – and demonstrated some diaper changing sense. He at least got the tabs undone. Jay glanced behind himself and nudged the box of wipes closer to the two of them with his foot. But found Hank just looking up at him. Hank Voight – acting fucking clueless about something. Almost glad he lived to see that day. And it was as simple at this.

"So front to back," Jay said and nudged the wipe box with his foot again. "That's it. Just avoid getting any in her … creases."

Hank gave him a smack at that but grabbed a wipe. And went at it – like Hank went at most things. Hard core – and it showed as soon as he finished his downward swipe and pulled the wipe away. He'd managed splat all Mattie's runny plop of shit pretty much right into her girl parts.

"Okay," Jay said with a shake of his head. "I'll let Erin know you've just advanced in the standings as the one to be most likely to give her her first urinary tract infections."

That got another smack and a bigger glare.

Jay just gestured at Mattie's flailing kicks, though. She seemed totally undeterred by the fact her grandfather was smearing poop in all the wrong places. She actually decided to help the situation by deciding to take a leak right then too. And boy baby reaction times that Jay had seen in Erin took over Hank, the new diaper getting dropped on top of her quickly. But that trick didn't do much of anything with a girl.

Jay snorted a restrained laugh and pointed at her legs. "Just lift her up a bit by her ankles while you're cleaning her."

Hank exhaled some clear annoyance but did that and Jay watched for a moment while he tried to get the situation under control.

That was enough. It'd be okay. He'd be okay. Mattie was okay now. And he needed to leave while all of them were distracted. And so he'd get to the hospital to have the time to tell her about the show he'd seen. He likely should've videoed it.

At least now she wouldn't have to worry about her being the only one who getting Mattie's poop in places poop shouldn't be. Looked like Hank was doing a real good job at that. Including the change pad and the back bottom of her onesie and likely the carpet where he was dropping the dirty wipes. It looked like he was aiming at using the rest of the box that had been put in front of him.

"So, washing machine's upstairs and clothes are …," he moved around the living room again and kicked gently at a laundry basket of clean – but completely not folded – baby gear. "Don't be too hard on your grandpa, Mattie," he called back at them, get another grunt out of Hank. And he hesitated at the top of the stairs for another moment – just staring at her still squirming around on the floor. And then he made himself step down the first stair, turning his back. It was one of the harder steps he'd had to take in his life. And that might've surprised him eight weeks ago – but it didn't now. He did wonder, though, how much harder it felt before it got easier. Or if it eve really did.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Shorter break than anticipated but don't take that to mean anything about things getting posted regularly.**

 **Also please note that right now this isn't intended to be the set of chapters/scenes that are set in the future that I've mentioned. Those ones will be set sometime when the kids are 3-7 years old. I haven't decided on their ages or the exact context yet. But it will be posted as a separate story if/when it happens.**

 **Right now this is just going to be used as a placeholder for random scenes from the AU. They likely aren't going to be in any kind of order. And they aren't necessarily gong to all be in the same timeframe. Like they aren't all going to be while the babies are newborns. You might get random ones set farther ahead in the future and their lives. And I might jump back to previous/past scenes and moments from the AU (that don't fit well into other stories already posted). And they aren't all just going to be Jay/Erin. There will be ones that are focused solely just Ethan or Hank or a combination of characters. Some might be inspired by episodes or recasting scenes and dialogues from the episodes into this AU (past seasons and when the new one starts). And I suspect a lot of them will be shorter and generally "lighter" (though not necessarily fluffier) than what I usually write. But who knows.**

 **It will just kind of be a placeholder story that scenes/chapters get added as I feel like and have time to write something. Keep in mind it isn't meant to be a "story" with a progressing plot or destination, etc. It won't be chronological. It will just be what it is.**

 **Thanks for taking the time to read and comment. Hopefully some of you will enjoy this for what it is.**


	2. Gotta Eat

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

"Erin," Jay called – but mostly whispered from the door of what was supposed to be their exercise room and storage space but had transformed into Ethan's guest room only to become the room they'd adopted as their bedroom so they didn't have to go up and down an extra set of stairs in their never-ending trips between the nursery and kitchen, even though their bedroom would have so much more space to accommodate the bassinets that were cluttered against the wall nearly touching the bed in the small cramped room. Erin only managed to moan at him a little.

She'd already done that – when the alarm on her phone had started quietly chiming and vibrating on the bedside table. And she'd ignored it – even though it had woke her. She'd still just lay there – until Jay had muttered from his flopped side of the bed, "It's your turn."

And it was – but she still couldn't manage to peel herself from the mattress. "It's your turn," she contended. And she wasn't big on lying to him. Not that she'd ever really lied to him before – but secrets and walls and half-truths and hidden-truths had been (maybe still was) one of the bigger challenges of their relationship. And just getting over themselves and their pasts – and figuring out how to be a family and a united front and a couple of people who could function together. But right now she didn't feel too functional, and she sort of thought that she'd get a pass on this one – stretching the truth about who's turn it was to get up in the middle of the night and ready the bottles – because she was pretty sure Jay would be too tired to really remember if it was or wasn't his turn, or remember in the morning that she'd tried to pull one over on him.

But he clearly wasn't. "It's definitely your turn," he muttered again. He hadn't moved – an inch. But she was also nearly certain he hadn't been sleeping. Not that that helped with how exhausted he was too.

"I will pay you …," she muttered herself.

She could almost feel him smile off behind her at that. "I don't think your maternity leave check could cover it," he teased.

And it wasn't a tease – it was a sad state of reality. They needed to double their income again – big time. Only doubling their income wouldn't be doubling their income – because who the hell can afford paying for two babies in daycare in Chicago? And that just made her groan more. She was trying not to think about it too much – even though she was. Because she'd already had Olive tell her she was screwed since she didn't get the twins on a wait-list basically the moment she found out she was pregnant. She was trying to be helpful – but that hadn't been remotely helpful. At all.

At least a positive of the tease meant he was definitely more awake and alert than her – so definitely his turn.

"Spank bank," she mumbled at him.

That got a sound out of him – vaguely amused. "Those are usually self-serve scenarios."

She groaned more and rolled over to the center of the bed and pushed at his bicep, trying to rock him toward the edge of the bed.

"Fine," she muttered, "than an IOU. Go. Please."

Jay'd grinned at her and stayed put for a moment – too long – but then did get up and pad out of the room and Erin had let her eyes close again even though she didn't drift back to sleep. Instead she listened to him downstairs in the kitchen and his every movement in the bottle and formula prep and warming and cooling. A process that was ingrained into her at this point. Muscle memory – so much so that she probably could've gotten up and gone down and done it on zombie auto-pilot. She'd just wanted – needed – to stay put for a few more minutes.

Because she knew there was only going to be so much longer where she could really ask Jay to take "his turn" for the night feedings in getting the bottles ready. There were only going to be so many nights left before he was back at work and on the job. And Erin didn't think she could really expect him to be at work all day and then be up every three and a half hours at night to get through feeding the babies – especially with how slow Eli fed. Not that Jay would look it that way – but they also had to be sensible about it. He couldn't go into the job as a zombie. Not his job. So they were going to have to reassess this whole schedule again when he was back on roster and roll-call.

She didn't know how she was going to manage it either. Home all day, alone with the babies. And then there only being one set of hands to care for them and feed them and everything else. It was all going to take twice as long. Her whole day would be just readying bottles and feeding them and changing them and cleaning bottles and waking them and feeding them and changing them.

It made her want to tell him that she'd happily go back to work – and he could stay home and do that. He'd likely be better at it than her. He had processes that were so much more … militarized … than her. Routines and organization and muscle memory and habits and comfort in repeated motion. He thrived in that kind of situation. He was good at the stillness and alertness of being present and just waiting for a moment so much better than her. And he got through all the little daily necessities of having babies around and taking care of them – and everything else in the house that suddenly needed to be done daily … or multiple times a day – so much faster than her too.

It was going to be even harder when a the job needed him to black-out, do overnight surveillance or go undercover – and she'd be alone with the babies for a whole lot longer than shift. Overnight. Days. However long a case took. And even though she'd absolutely known that was going to be a reality of their lives as parents – and what she'd have to manage as a mother – it just felt different now. And a little overwhelming. It was an unknown and on days … nights … like this where she just felt so exhausted, it seemed like it would be unmanageable.

She knew she could probably get someone to help her in those kind of situations. If she could bring herself to ask for help – something else she was still having to force herself to get better at. But it was hard too when so many of the people who'd be volunteering and willing ot help her were on the job too. And not just on the job – in Jay's unit. Even Hank – if Jay was at work a lot of times it was going to mean Hank was at work too. And it would likely mean she'd have Ethan with her too – and she wasn't sure how much help he'd be at least at this time of night. And Olive – she had her own kid to be looking after.

Erin was telling herself that this was just a very small period of time. That all the night feedings would fade away in a matter of months. That the time would go by quickly and soon the babies routines and schedules and needs would be entirely different. And it wouldn't feel so overwhelming – and at the same time monotonous – to take care of them. That this was just the newborn phase. And the preemie phase. And little babies, first-time parents phase. That they were still finding their grove – but they were finding it.

But it also didn't mean that she hadn't seriously thought about telling Jay he needed to look into how badly he'd screwed up his opportunity of moving to SWAT. Or pretty much any other unit – at least the ones where a detective rank meant he could general have more normal and predictable hours. But that wasn't particularly fair to him. It should be something he wanted – not something she asked of him. Not yet. Doing that was just the exhaustion talking.

And she knew that even with the job and going back to work and back on the roster, that Jay still wouldn't use that as an excuse. He'd do his "share" in taking care of the babies. That he'd still get up and do night feedings even when he'd be heading into work at 6 a.m. in the morning. And he wouldn't look at it as his "turn". He'd just see it as part of … what being a parent was and the kind of parent he wanted to be. And the kind of man he was.

She sometimes had to wonder what all the things she was thinking and feeling meant about the kind of woman – and parent – she was.

She sometimes wondered how Camille pulled it off with Hank on the job. And how Hank pulled it off with being on the job. But she knew the ultimate answer was that you just did what you had to do, the best you could. And you learned how to operate within the limitations the job created for your family life and built your family life around that. And you made the sacrifices you needed to make to ensure you were the kind of parent you wanted to be and your kids got the kind of childhood you wanted them to have and you started building – you kept on building – the foundation with them for the kind of relationship you wanted to have with them.

It was just hard. All of it. And even harder when you were so tired and the fatigue just kept building. Being home was even more exhausting than being in the hospital and NICU – in a different way.

Erin remembered how strict Hank had been about sleep hygiene. With all of them. Even her as a teenager in their house. She'd always thought that it was more about him wanting his television to himself and some space on the main floor without kids underfoot to talk to his wife. Set bedtimes. He'd always been even stricter about it than Camille. She'd usually let her stay up a bit longer without heading upstairs on the nights Hank was on the job. But it'd always was supposed to be their "secret". Erin didn't actually think it ever really was.

She should've clued in that it was about more than that when Hank still asked her as an adult how she was sleeping. When he still interrogated her if he thought she looked tired or hadn't been getting enough rest. But by then she'd passed it off as just needing to be alert and on the ready for the job.

Now she was realizing it was so much more than that.

Now she wished she'd spent way more of her 20's enjoying sleep when she could take it – whenever she wanted.

This all was placing a whole different importance on sleep and rest and alertness. And if anything she was dreaming about when she could start adjusting the twins' sleep routines and schedules and work on sleep hygiene with them. Bedtime routines and set bed-times and lights-out (and screen-time restrictions) into their teens and with curfews for 'as long as your living under my roof' were starting to seem like a really, really, really good idea. And it wasn't even like they were fussy babies who were constantly waking up all night (so far). They just needed to be feed. They needed to keep their weight up. They needed to watch their breathing and oxygen. So far – that was the plan.

"Babe," Jay said again. He was crouched down and right next to her at her side of the bed now. His hand rocking her shoulder slightly. "The bottles are ready."

She moaned a little again and still didn't open her eyes. "We should start staggering them," she said. "I can't feed them both at the same time."

His hand kept steady on her. "We'll get there," he said.

She groaned again. It was too much of a balancing act. Not when Mattie was so squirmy and they were so small and EJ still fought her about taking a bottle and she had tempt him and tempt him and tempt him – turning a feeding with him into a prolonged endeavor. But they didn't want to have to go back to fully depending the feeding tube with him. They already were having to more than they should – to keep his weight up, to get something into him. To keep him out of the hospital – even though they were back over there with him already multiple times a week.

Jay was better at that too. The balancing act and the hold to cradle them and both the bottles to do a double-feed. He had longer arms. Stronger arms? Longer and strong enough to carry the whole family these days it sometimes felt like. And that wasn't entirely fair either.

But he didn't press it or argue with her. He just straightened and she heard him pad over to the bassinets on the opposite of the bed. She could feel him looking down into Mattie's for a long moment – but then there was a shift in his weight and he moved over to Eli's crib.

"Hey, Ejedg," he whispered – and she knew that he'd still be sleeping but Jay would be gently waking him – and taking on the extended ordeal of trying to get some food into him. "Got some ration nums for you and your sis. C'mon."

There was a quiet little squawk out of him and Erin let her eyes flutter open enough to see Jay's silhouette as he picked up his son and cradled him to his chest. He started to walk – swish and sway with Eli as he rubbed at his back while he let out some more protests at being awoken.

"None of that, bud," he said. "We're just going ot have to hold our nose and take it down the hatch. Gonna have to listen to me or the pedi's going to have us pumping it into you again. Don't want that."

"I think he does," Erin provided. "Then he doesn't have to wake up."

Jay swayed at the foot of the bed for a moment and looked at her. "Well, you're getting way too big to be eating that way. Hear food is supposed to be one of life's pleasures. So need to get this suckle, breath, swallow thing figured out and done with the oral aversion. Your tummy, body and future girlfriends will thank you for it."

Erin shook her head. "Great sentiment to give your infant son, Jay," she said.

He reached and grabbed her foot to give it a shake. "Enough orally aversions in this family."

"And you just lost your IOU," she said, actually opening her eyes and finding his directly.

He kept them – there was a seriousness behind them even though he managed to get the glint of a tease in there too through the dark. "I was talking about Eth. Hank said he did the oral aversion thing and look at what a picky eater he still is." He tilted his head and placed his lips against Eli's crown. "You are going to want be eating steak, little man. Trust me. Prime rib, rib eye, beef ribs. Those are all in your life. Along with pizza – with cheese. So first – we conquer—"

"Formula …," Erin rolled her eyes.

"Absolutely," Jay said and kept moving out the room and across the hall toward their nursery. "She's still sleeping, if you're going to stagger …" he whispered back at her as they went.

Erin let out a slow exhale as they left and enjoyed the feeling of being flat and in bed for a moment longer. She let herself think about if she should start staggering their feedings a little bit longer. But then thought – no. Because there was only going to be so much longer too that they'd be able to have this. Together – all together – in the dark of night and in their house and with their kids this little.

So she pulled herself up and out of the bed and went over to Mattie's bassinet. The little girl may have had her eyes closed when Jay was over there but she was looking up at her with those near emerald, dancing Irish eyes she'd got from her daddy. And she got a little baby smile – which only made Erin smile too. It only made her feel some guilt for staying in bed that long and thinking about missing out on this moment with her daughter – and her son, and her partner.

"I thought you were supposed to be sleeping," she said and reached to pull her up. Mattie only cooed. "Yea, of course you aren't. You've got your Daddy's eyes and your mama's stomach clock, don't you."

And she carried her across to the nursery. Jay had already settled into the sliding rocker that they'd inherited from Olive for the moment – and he was working at rubbing the bottle's nipple back and forth across Eli's lips trying to coax him into taking it while his little fists pressed into the air. He gave her a glance and a small smile.

"There's the girls," he told Eli. "C'mon, we've got to beat them."

"Good luck with that," Erin said and took her daughter over to Camille's wooden rocker. "A girl's gotta eat."


	3. Break Point

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Hank steadied himself outside the door to Erin and Jay's townhouse. Gave himself another moment to organize just how to approach this. He already knew what this was about. Could tell over the phone. Could hear it in her voice – and in the wailing babies in the background. And he'd been there. Had some insight into all this – as a parent, as a husband, as a cop. But hadn't had to deal with it as the father to an adult daughter. And knew that turned this into a whole other tightrope walk. New territory – for him not to screw up in figuring out and managing a new fucking dynamic in his relationship with his daughter and in the family.

Hadn't really had to do this with Justin. Justin had never wanted his thoughts or advice on anything to do with being a father. Not even couched in the acknowledgement that he had some of his own experience dealing with babies and small children – and boys – while working a high stress gig with a whole lot of shift work. Knew J had decided from the get that he was going to be a different kind of father than him. Probably thought he'd be a better father than him. Have a different relationship with his son. His wife. His work-life-family balance. That was J. And it was just fathers and sons. Always went into shit thinking you had something to prove and you had to do better. Some sort of male cavemen, competition thing. Alpha male – even with your pops.

Hadn't entirely stopped Olive from calling him a handful of times when H was just a nipper. Could hear the fatigue and frustration in her voice too those times she'd called him. But where wasn't a hell of a lot he could do from that distance. Couldn't tell her too much about managing a baby and family life on an army man's schedule and in base life. Could only lob some general suggestions at her that had worked with his kids. Could only give her reassurances that the first three, four months are the hardest and give it some time – they'd all settle into routine eventually. Could only manage to get down a couple weekends to try to help and give her a break. Not sure how much of a break it was when she felt like she needed to clean the place and do groceries and manage all the meals when him and E did go down. Could only invite her to bring up the baby for a visit so he could take H off her hands for a bit and tell her to go and take a nap – that he could manage bottle and diaper duty. Feed her a few meals that she didn't have to do the cooking on. Send her home with some freezer containers done up. As much as J had let her take him up on those invitations.

Different dynamic. With J and Olive and H. Completely different situation than what he had in front of him now. Erin, Jay, Mattie and EJ. Different story and having to go through some figuring out again how to manage it and the role he was supposed to play.

Knew some of what he'd told Olive would translate. Just give it some time. But Erin wasn't Olive. And Erin wasn't Justin either.

Knew that if Camille was here she'd be doing this. Though, thought Erin might be a lot more accepting of Cami coming over in this circumstance. Would take the help and the advice. Needed to prepare himself for some backlash walking into this. Resistance.

Still hadn't really wrapped his head around how you managed this when it was your child – and your daughter – but this was an adult, dealing with a real grown-up situation where you just needed to grow-up. But kids – takes a fucking village. Had seen that in his life. Knew Cami's mom had been over more than once in those first weeks – and months – when Justin had arrived and all the kid did was cry and she was stuck at home with that while he was back on the job. Still carried his load – whole lot of times when he got home from putting in sixteen, eighteen hours on the job without any shut-eye for Cami to hand off the baby to him as soon as he was in the door with a "your turn" and for her to just go up to that damn bathroom, close the door and start running that water and rattling those pipes to drown out Justin's wailing until he could get him to calm down. But that still hadn't stopped Nico from pulling him out for a supposed Manhattan and smoke for it to turn into a fucking dressing down about job, wife, father and what he expected out of him when his daughter and grandchild were involved in all that. Supposed it was something he needed to hear in some ways, but sure wasn't for lack of trying. Just another thing that takes some time for everyone to find their routines and roles and schedules and get it all figured out. If you ever fucking do.

He'd knocked on the door but Erin clearly hadn't heard. Could even hear through it that she must be up on the main level with the kids still wailing at her. So enough with the pussy-footing around all this. Was going to just be direct. Wasn't a moment to be playing equal adults or friends. This was going to be a day that whether she liked it or not he was still her father and that's the role and responsibility he was going to take. For her sake and his grandkids.

Hank checked the knob. Locked. That's the way it was with newborns – and preemies – locked in for days and weeks and months. Magoo hadn't even been as early as the Tilly and EJ and Cami had still refused to have him out of the house or visitors over for months. Sure didn't help with getting any kind of outside support when you were going through something.

He fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Not exactly an invited guest. But figured in this case his daughter's call was enough of an invitation. Could hear loud and clear she was at the end of her rope. Knew the way that sounded. Had gotten to hear it in Camille's voice more than once over the years and not just when the kids were newborns. And knew the confrontation, conflict and meltdown that ay was going to have when he did get home. Happened. Another part of adding kids to the family – and you got to be the one heading back to the job while your wife stayed up with the fussy babies and the exhausting, never-ending feeding schedule they demanded in those early days. Though, thought the confrontations maybe happened a little more regularly and spectacularly when you were a cop family. Or you picked a firecracker as the mother of your kids. Camille sure had a way of setting him straight – even when he didn't exactly see eye-to-eye with her on some of the exhausted and hormonal angry, teary rampages he'd wanted into. Didn't doubt Jay had about the same to look forward to. Wouldn't pretend that Camille being a spitfire had too much to do with that Italian blood running through her veins. And, if it did, was pretty sure they'd feed Erin enough of the good stuff over the years that she had it in her core too.

Didn't think Erin had heard the door alarm chime when he came in. Hard to hear much of anything above when he could hear going on up the stairs when he got inside. Gave his head a bit of a shake. Was going to be a long few hours. Probably should've brought some earplugs – maybe not to just drown out the babies.

Erin – likely more Jay – had the fucking Purell sitting on the entrance bench there. Guy pretty much wanted you to bath in it before getting anywhere near the babies so far. Had to shake his head again at that. But as he sat to unlace his boots, still squirted some into his hand and rubbed it in. Didn't need an extra conflict that day.

"Erin," he called up the stairs, "coming up."

Didn't think she'd have a baseball bat but didn't think he needed to startle her or agitate her any more than she already was.

"What are you doing here?" she called from up there.

He grunted. Silly fucking question. Don't exactly take a phone call like that and then hang up and move on with your day. Didn't matter how old your kids were, didn't think.

Got to the top of the stairs to see her pacing with EJ. Too fast and bouncing him real job in her efforts to calm him – that likely didn't feel too calming at that point. Could tell from his beet red face that he was about done as his mom. And his sister was in on it too – laying in her little bouncy seat with clutched fists and screaming too.

He'd officially entered the circus. And sure looked like the custodians hadn't had a chance – or the energy – to clean up between the horror shows either. Two babies at the same time sure seemed to create a whole lot more of a baby explosion in the house than he had any memory of having in their house with the boys. And Jay and Erin's place was a whole lot bigger than the family home for them to be spreading the crap around. Not that he thought a lot of spreading was happening. Been pretty clear that they'd all just set up camp on that main floor and didn't leave unless they had to.

"He won't stop crying," Erin muttered – generally at him. Though she hadn't really looked at him yet.

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged. "Can hear that."

That got a look.

"I can't reach Jay," she said. "He's not picking up his phone."

And she paced some more.

"Can't right now," Hank provided. "Should've let you know that before shut-down."

"That was Tuesday night, Hank," she pressed at him. That anger and annoyance and exhaustion flickered bright in her eyes as it flicked off her tongue in that one. "It's Thursday afternoon."

"Mmm …," he grunted. He gestured at her and Eli as she made her pace back toward his space. "Give him here."

Didn't have to ask twice on that one. His grandson nearly got shoved at him. Piercing shriek right in his face and little fists pumped and pressed. Least he was proving that his lungs were good. And the kid was a whole lot stronger than he looked given his size. Least when it came to his upper body. Legs just curled all up against his belly.

"Where the hell is he?" she demanded again as she paced away – toward where Mattie was throwing her own fit.

"Know I can't tell you that," he said and worked at shushing at Eli, rubbing at his ear lobe and cradling him against his chest. But EJ wasn't having much of any of it yet. "Just leave her, Erin," he said as Erin squad down to get ready to pick up another ball of agitation to put back against her own chest.

She glared at him and then gestured at Eli. "He won't eat for me," she said accusingly. "Jay's not coming home. He's not answering his phone."

"Erin," he put to her calmly – flatly, "he'll be home as soon as he can."

"When?" she demanded and stared at Tilly, putting her hand against her stomach like that was going to get her to calm any.

"As soon as he can," he nodded at her again.

And she glared at him harder. "It's his second week back, Hank," she pressed. "You seriously had to put him –"

He shook his head and gave her a loud enough smack to stop her in her tracked. Stopped EJ for a split second too. Got some eye-wided surprised before he sputtered and wailed even harder.

"Not the way it works, Erin," he nodded at her. "He's on the job. He's on the team. He's not going to get special privileges because of his life circumstances."

"I'm not asking for you to treat him like the father of your grandkids," she spit at him. "I'm asking you to acknowledge he's a new dad with preemie twins at home."

He gave her a shrug and looked down at his little grandson. He really was putting all his energy into this cry. Would have to stop eventually. Give into his own exhausted sleep.

"Lots of cops end up with their wife at home with the newborn. That's law enforcement. You knew that when you let him father your kids. Told you for years not to date a cop. Made your choice and had a whole lot of education and perspective on what you were getting yourself into."

"Well, I can't do this," she said. "I'm not made for this—"

"Erin," he interrupted again. "This is just the way it is. Everyone goes through this when they've first got their babies home."

She shook her head and stared at them. "He's not eating. He only eats properly for Jay and Jay's not here. So I can't feed them together – because he won't eat. And now their whole eating schedule is all … fucked," she said and stared at Tilly. "They're beyond staggered. It's just fucked. She's just crying when he's crying. I can't do this. Jay's going to have to … you're going to have transfer him out. To … I don't know. Something else."

"That's a conversation you're going to have to have with him."

Didn't think it made a whole lot of sense. Didn't know where in the CPD she expected him to transfer that would be any better schedule or anymore predictable schedule. All-in-all, he'd wager that despite the long hours Intelligence pulled, he strived pretty hard to make sure his team was getting home at night to have a bit of a life and to see whatever family they had. Wasn't perfect, was still law enforcement with shifts and rotations and calendars and on-calls and nights and ops and cases where they went for days at a time. But could be a whole lot worse. He'd been there. And that was just part of the job. Had to be as invested in the job as you were your family or it just wasn't going to work out for you. Thought at this point Jay should likely stick it out in Intelligence as long as the Ivory Tower let them exist.

Otherwise this family might be looking at a whole lot of jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire situation. But that sure wasn't any kind of conversation for him to be having with Erin – especially right now with where her head and body were at. And likely was a whole lot better if he kept way out of them working all that out too. That was husband-wife conversations – if they'd just fucking get that non-sense sorted out. Wasn't something for him to be injecting too much of an opinion on as a father. Be conceived as a whole lot of him taking sides. And figured when Erin was a little more clear-headed she'd realize he was on both their sides and she'd realize Jay staying put was the best bet for right now all on her own.

"I can't do this," she just muttered again and rocked at the edge of Tilly's bouncing chair. The movement wasn't doing anything to get her to calm either but figured she was mostly reacting to what was going on with her brother over in his arms.

"I know," Hank allowed. And it got daggers – hadn't been supposed to agree with her. But he kept her eyes. "You can't do this right now. So right now, you're going to take a break."

She just shook her head at that and moved to unstrap Mattie from the seat.

"Erin," Hank rasped firmly. "Leave her." It got another look from her – now her eyes were watering. Frustrated exhaustion threatening to spill over.

"You're judging me," she said. Her voice cracked a bit. Betrayed her.

"Erin—"

"You're judging me as a mom," she pressed. "You're stading there thinking that I'm no better than my mother."

He adjusted EJ again. Kid was doing his best to put up a fight and squirm right out of his arms. He moved over to the couch and sat down. Less of a drop if Eli did get his way – not that he planned to let him. And put him closer to Erin and his granddaughter too. His granddaughter that she was staring at with such defeated guilt.

Could tell her that she wasn't anything like her mother. Because he'd seen Bunny with her two kids when they were little. And if they were wailing like this – they'd be locked up in a bedroom, if they were lucky. More likely they'd be in the bedroom closet. And – or – Bunny (and all the fucking random Johns she had in and out of that crash pad) would be too fucking drunk or stoned to even notice the wailing.

But he also did his best to spend as little of his time or energy thinking of Bunny as possible. She didn't deserve to take up that space in his life. Or in Erin's. She'd gotten far better than she deserved already.

Too bad it was so much more fucking complicated than that Bunny had done a number on Erin. And the ways she'd done it we're managing to rear their ugly heads in more ways than one with the babies now. But there was only so much Hank could do about that. Support her. But coming to terms with the genes and the trauma and the abuse and the abandoment - and how that played into the person she was and the mother she was working on becoming - that was something Erin was going to have to put a whole lot of time and hard work in sorting through herself. There were only so many times he could tell her she wasn't her mother. and she'd only ever had listened to him and believed him so much.

"I'm thinking that your mother – Camille – had more than one day like this with raising you kids," he said. Because that's the mother and example he wanted her to dwell on and to guide her the best it could. Camille hadn't been perfect but she'd tried real hard for all three of their kids. She'd been a mother. She'd been Erin's mother in a whole lot more ways than Bunny ever had even though Camille got a lot less time with her - and they'd both missed out on this important bit of their girl's development. "And she needed her parents to come over and give her a break too. Pretty sure the same can be said of nearly every mom out there, Erin."

She gazed at him with watery eyes.

He just gave her a little nod. "Get their swaddles for me," he said.

She shook her head. "He doesn't—"

And he shook his head right back at her. "You're going to let me try this my way while you go take a break."

"I can't just leave when they're like this," she muttered and looked back at Tilly. Abandoment. Another of Erin's hang ups. Another area she always thought she was to blame for. But it didn't work that way. And this wasn't remotely comparable to what Bunny had put her daughter through. Not the same thing. Not in the same realm of existence. This was normal. Her reaching out for some kind of help was healthy. It was a real big step for his daughter. A positive one. A real important one now with the kids. But knew Erin wouldn't quite be seeing it that way.

He reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "You can and you're goin' to."

She shook her head again and went back to working at getting Mattie out of the seat – picking up that screaming mess and settling onto the couch next to him and EJ.

"Erin," he tried a bit more gently – but equally as firm. "Need you to listen to me right now."

It took another glassy, exhausted glance. All her guilt and self-doubt and insecurity was showing like he was looking at that beaten down teenaged girl who was trying so hard to be tough.

"Part of being a good parent is knowing when you need to ask for help," he nodded at her. "You called—"

"I just was trying to get a read on Jay's ETA," she managed to whisper out.

"You called because I'm your father," he said. And part of that meant – you helped your kids. When what they needed help with was calming down and getting feed – didn't matter if that was when they were a few months or a few decades. It was part of your job description. "So, right now, you're going to listen to me as your father."

She just kept looking at him with those glassy eyes. Thinking she was failing – when he was glad she'd reached out. Proud of her for it. It was her taking care of herself and these kiddos.

"You're going to get off the couch and you're going to walk away for a while." She shook her head again in quiet, weak protest. He reached and squeezed her shoulder again. "You're going to go upstairs, take a shower and then go get a couple hours shut-eye."

"I can't leave you with them when—"

"Erin," he pressed again – more firmly. "I'm going to be fine. They're going to be fine."

"It's not fine," she muttered.

"And needing a break when it's not fine doesn't mean you're doing something wrong," he pressed at her. "You are not walking away from your responsibilities. And if hearing them cry makes you feel like you are, you're going to go get in the car-"

"Check out on them," she said.

"No," he pressed. "Go get some air. Get something to eat. Do whatever errand you've been putting off and then come back in a while and do what I said – shower, sleep. So your head is back on straight."

She stared and stared. He could see her fighting against herself – wants and needs and guilt.

"He hates me," she whispered at him. About EJ.

Hank allowed a little smack and gazed down at the ball of hurt and upset baby. The one that couldn't express himself yet to get across what he was feeling - beyond likely a whole lot of exhausted frustration just like his mom.

He looked back at his daughter. "That's exhaustion talking," he said. "That's not how a grown woman I raised talks about her baby son."

She looked at him with even glassine eyes. Trying to be stronger than she felt in that moment and a whole lot stronger than she needed to be right now.

But she finally shifted and placed a lingering kiss against her daughter, whispering something that sounded far too much like an unnecessary apology at that little girl and then bent to settle her back into the reclined seat.

She straightened and stared at the squalling baby in his arms for a real long time. But then reached and stroked at his dark, damp cheeks. His little mouth still trying to wail out all his hardship. She bent and put a peck against his forehead too.

"I'll be back soon, Eli," she whispered. "Please listen to your popa. Please."

He gave her a weak smile and reached and cupped the back of her head before she straighten too. He tried to find some way to let her know again – this was normal and she was fine. No reason to feel any sort of guilt or failure. But he instead just gave her elbow a good squeeze as she rose.

She wordlessly went and dug around in a laundry basket that looked like it'd become a resting ground for every manner of blanket. But she pulled out a swaddle and set it on the coffee table and she bent and picked up a bottle that had been left next to Eli's vacant feeding chair. She set it on the corner closest to him.

"It's likely cold now," she whispered without even looking at him.

He just grunted some acknowledgement. He'd get it sorted.

She went over to the kitchen counter and picked up her keys and her phone – briefly meeting his eyes as she moved toward the stairs to head down to get her car and get out of the noise for a bit.

"If you …" she said and waved the phone in her fingers, before shoving it in her pocket.

He hummed acknowledgement. He wouldn't, though. It'd defeat the point.

She hesitated for a moment at the top of the stairs. Looking long at her babies. Real long. But then she disappeared down the steps.

Hank worked at rocking EJ just a bit and massaging his earlobe until he just managed to hear the door shut down there over all the noise. He waited a minute to see if he could hear her car start. Figured she was sitting out there deciding if she should – could – really leave and what it all meant if she did. Still battling against whether she was abandoning or walking out on her babies. If she was putting her needs ahead of theirs. But sometimes you had to do that, for the sake of the whole family. Sometimes that was the best way to take care of them. But it was a hard lesson to learn. One the good parents agonized over a bit while they tried to figure it out.

He didn't hear the engine turn over the babies' cries. But also didn't hear her come back in.

So he let out a little sigh and reached to grab the swaddle and arrange it on the couch next to him. Been a long time since he'd done this wrap. But he'd figure it out.

He gave the space a glance as he worked to get EJ's tight clutched body centered on it. Maybe he'd manage to figure this out well enough that he could tidy up some of the circus and do up something to put in the freezer for them too.

"Gonna have to help me out on this one, Eli," he said and looked over at this sputtering granddaughter. "Mattie. Team effort."


	4. Complicated Conversations

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Hank gave the stairs a cursory glance as he heard his kid's slow, staggered steps down them. Could see he'd opted against his crutched. Knew he didn't have his brace on and doubted Magoo would've opted to strap the stim unit to his leg. Would've been hollering at him for some help getting it on likely – usual routine – if he had. Good idea but fucking thing needed a contortion act to get all the nodes placed right. Asking a little much for anyone with M.S. progressed as much as his kid. So instead E was working his way down the stairs – hand braced against the wall more than the banister. Tracing fucking hand prints and finger marks all the way down the way. Making a chore for him – because it wasn't exactly the kind of clean-up duty he could assign his kid. Didn't trust him – his body and unsteady legs and balance – on the stairs much as it was. Preferred to keep the kid's time on them as brief as possible – not add to the chore chart in a way that would have him loitering around on them for hours.

Had heard the kid up. There'd been movement upstairs for a while. Hadn't been able to tell if E was going to come down yet. So he'd just left it. Let him take his time.

E had gone up there right when they'd gotten home from Med. He'd let him. Gave him some time and some space. Hank needed some of his own too. They both did after these fucking appointments. Let E have his own time to try to process and come down from it. Figure out what it meant for his life and future. To try to get his head on straight about it and get his emotions under control about all of it. It was a lot to ask of a kid. A lot to ask of anyone. Hank felt like he needed the same time. Decompression. Processing. To try to figure out how the fuck to interact with any of this as a parent. As a father. As a man.

None of this was just what you ever wanted for your kid. Not something you even let yourself imagine about. And it changed the whole fucking parenting dynamic. It changed you as a person. Changed how you parented. How you had to parent. Changed you as a father. As a man. Shifted how you had to be with your kid. Who you had to be. Had to be a cheerleader and friend and advocate and shrink and therapist and drill sergeant and coach and pre-med student and nurse practitioner. You had to be a little bit of everything. When sometimes you just felt like you needed all those own fucking roles in your own life too to be telling you how to be all those things for your kid. But supposed if you had that you wouldn't be much of a man or father or parent either.

Knew that E going upstairs was just him taking his time and space. That he needed to let the kid do that. Not just with his health – just with the whole lot of processing over everything going on in their lives. Their family. The fucking readjustment. That they were asking out of Magoo again. And he was trying. Give him that.

But also knew that it wasn't just taking time that had sent E upstairs. Knew that this weather was kicking the shit out of his boy.

Felt like every summer since Ethan had been diagnosed he was rattling off to the docs that the heat and humidity was doing his kid in. And every summer they were getting told that it was the worse heat and humidity in memory. That records were being set and broken for it all. Confirmation that global warming and climate change did exist – and they were smack in the center of it. And could easily argue that this was the most oppressively humid in his own memory. But wasn't sure it was doing Ethan any service by acting like it was all just the "worst" summer for weather. Felt like every summer was going to keep being just a little bit worse. Because all this just kept progressing for his kid. Every summer was going to be a little bit harder because he was in a bit worse place than the one before.

But there wasn't any disputing that E had been dragging a whole lot that summer. Kid had been saying – asking – for weeks when it was going to start to feel like fall. He was turning into a fucking weather forecaster and metreologist. Constantly on the apps and the internet looking not just hours or days ahead – fucking weeks.

Magoo had ended up spending a whole lot of time in bed. Just not feeling well with it. Tired. Weak. Nauseated. Dealt with some summer colds and inflammation and infection with it all. Basically he'd been in a persistent state of being in a mild to moderate flare for months on end. Stress of everything and emotions and all the changes and adjustments weren't helping. Knew there was a lot of anxiety and some depression mixed in with it, which didn't help much either. Add in teen moodiness and Ethan was taking a whole lot of time outs and downtime.

He'd only said so much about it. Could only say so much about any of it. Whether he liked it or not, Eth needed his rest. A lot of it. To cope with pretty much all of it.

But went back to looking at his phone as the kid came down. Let him hobble his way to the opposite side of the couch from him and sink in. Kid just sat there like it'd been quite the trek for him from upstairs all the way down here. Likely was. He stared at the ceiling and stared at the wall and just flopped there.

Let him. Let him sit there with whatever he was thinking until he rotated his head to stare at the TV that wasn't on. Waited out on if he'd ask for screen-time or just claim the remote. Or if he just wanted the quiet in the room too.

"Where's Bear?" the kid finally asked flatly.

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged and glanced up from his phone a bit, nodding off past the kitchen. "Watering the tomatoes out back. He's holding court."

Got a quiet sound of acknowledgement out of E. Some amusement. Likely some annoyance.

Both knew that the dumb mutt still thought he was a puppy and lost his mind over the sprinkler. Surprised he wasn't out there barking while he dashed through the spray. But let him – long as he didn't go kicking up dirt or digging up the garden in the process. Ultimately it'd be a wet dog he'd be letting back into the house. And by the looks of E, it'd be Hank who'd be having to be toweling him dry and wiping the mud off his feet before it was tracked through the whole damn place.

"What time is it?" E muttered.

Hank grunted some acknowledgement again and glanced at his watch. "Pushing 1900."

It got another quiet sound out of E. Least the question hinted that the kid had been up there sleeping. Not stewing or crying. Face didn't look like there'd been tears either. The kid had been stoic through that appointment they'd had. And hadn't said a fucking word on the drive home. Neither of them had.

"Hungry? Could toss something at the grill," Hank offered.

Just another flat sound out of the kid and a little shake of his head. He kept staring at the blank TV screen.

The radio sitting next to him crackled a bit. Garbled call across the city wide about a suspicious package. Up on the North Side. Not exactly a few blocks out. Waited a second to see if any other ranking officers jumped to get themselves held down on the call for that one. Didn't have to wait long. Response crackled again.

Summer. Whole lot of suspicious "packages" – usually make-shifted coolers – were coming in. Wasn't his idea of a call to jump at on a Friday night. But this time of year – be guys who would. Laid-back OT and walkie-leash pay while letting them escape restless kids stuck together in avoiding the oppressive heat outside – and a good way to avoid getting too wrapped up in a Honey-Do list that likely included a whole lot of back to school and classroom supply list runs. Actually, lots of guys likely were jumping to claim the OT and leash-pay to have their next pay check cover off the fucking back-to-school expenses this time of year.

E gave a glance at the noise and processed again. "Forgot you're on-call this weekend …" he muttered.

Hank just grunted and reached to adjust the volume. Turned it down a bit. Needed to keep the radio with him. Have a grip on what was going on in his city. But knew that if something actually popped that they needed him, the phone would be ringing. Didn't plan on jumping at a call over the radio unless it was really warranted. Or none of the other jagoffs were jumping to claim it first. Let them take their whack at the ball.

E was still staring at him. More staring at the phone he still had in his hand.

"Work?" he nodded at it.

Hank grunted at that. Shook his head and flashed the phone off at his boy. "Sister was sending some pictures of the twins."

That got a vague acknowledgement out of E. But it sat there. E wasn't always that interested in looking at photos of the babies. Didn't much blame him. Erin wasn't exactly the same kind of caliber of photographer as Olive. But what she lacked in talent, sure seemed to make up for in quantity. Had that in common with Camille and family photos.

Usually got a photo dump from his girl nearly every day around the time she and Jay were likely just getting the kids down for the night. Always took the time to look through them. They're only that little once. Could already flip back through the past few months worth and see how much they were growing and changing. Even week to week.

Apparently E had some interest that night. He reached for the phone and Hank let him take it. Watched him stare at the screen and slowly flip through.

"You talk to her?" his son asked.

"Briefly," he allowed.

Erin and Jay had been in at Med themselves that day. That their own stuff with Eli they were processing. Current ROP stage. 'Legally blind' classification and what that meant if they labeled his grandson with that. 'Legally blind' but still having some vision. And glasses – baby glasses – like coke bottles a few more months down the road. After more tests. If EJ would hold still and cooperate any. If they'd be pointing more lasers at his eyes.

Erin had sounded distant and distracted and like she was still processing what they'd been told themselves. Which still really amounted to a whole lot of nothing and continued monitoring and testing over the next many months as far as Hank could tell. Before they made any sort of official label or diagnosis or whatever the fuck it was these doctors ever did. But he didn't think either of them were in a state of mind where they wanted or needed more added to the pile to try to work through.

He hadn't asked a lot of questions and Erin hadn't talked too long or said too much. She sounded tired. Sad. Stressed. The usual. Knew the feeling.

The pictures had come through not long after they'd hung up. Couldn't really tell from them what a shit day they'd had. Babies looked happy enough in them. EJ looked normal and healthy enough in them.

Ethan gave him a glance. "Tell her what they said?"

Gave his son some more acknowledgement at that. "Said if you need to talk …" Hank conveyed on Erin's behalf.

E just made a quiet noise. He'd heard but didn't have a comment to that.

There wasn't much to comment on either. What do you say at this point. Got their confirmation. That it looked like whatever was going on with Magoo's system was having implications for his small fiber nerves now too. That that meant that his autonomic nervous system was going to be affected – not just his central. It wasn't exactly startling information. Anyone who knew the kid – and his symptoms and what he was going through – could've told you that this wasn't all just CNS. But it'd just added another layer to it all. Made them want to run more tests and try his son in new trials. Make him more of a gienea pig. A fucking science experiment. And there was a whole lot of trade-off in deciding if Ethan wanted to go through with any of that.

And it came down to being his son's decision. All of them could have their opinions and say. But it wasn't their life or their body. And Hank still needed his own time to think and process and research before he decided where he even stood on any of it. What way he wanted to try to nudge his boy. What was worth it. What might help and what might just make his whole quality of life worse while they tried to make it "better".

So there wasn't much to say. Just more conversations that they'd already had. More vents and rants and tears. And then a choice that didn't really have a right or wrong answer. It was just a gamble. One where you never really knew the odds and the docs and researchers weren't too rate about even putting you in the general vicinity of what you could or should expect. It was a full out crap shoot in deciding just how desperate you were.

With E, sometimes it seemed like it depended on the day. One good days, E seemed fine just coping as best he could. Bad days, things came out of his son's mouth that no father wanted to hear. On more even-keeled days, E usually just expressed he wanted to spend as little time in the hospital as possible and he wasn't interested in participating in any more trials. He'd just keep trying what was more or less "working". That E had been at it long enough he had opinions and ideas about what he wanted and could do some advocating for himself. His boy had done good at making clear that he wanted to talk about shifting to the weekly injections and that he'd be willing to talk about adding IgIV back into the mix with the plasma transfers again as a sporadic option to try to slow the progression down some more. That'd been the plan they'd pounded out as a family going in – but lately the docs just kept lobbing this stem cell treatment shit at them. And with the kind of summer E was having, Hank could tell the kid had sat there processing it some that afternoon.

Probably something they should all talk about. Again. But just didn't feel like there was much to say about it right now. They all needed the time to regroup. Organize their thoughts. Do some (more) reading. Try to figure out just what the fuck they wanted to do. How much more was worth going through. Or how much damage the realization that this was yet another fucking thing that didn't really work – that wasn't exactly a cure – would ultimately do.

Hank's initial thought was that he favored sticking with Plan A. Injections. IgIV. Keep up with the plasma transfers every few months. Continue the course.

But maybe that wasn't what E wanted anymore. E only wanted his opinion so much lately.

"Olive rang," he said instead.

E made another sound. "What'd she want?"

Hank gave a quiet smack and stared at his son for a long moment. Olive had a possible courter on the scene. He'd been visible on a couple occasions that summer. Around enough that Olive had cautiously mentioned his name a couple times. The sports medicine guy at the clinic she was doing her placement at. Todd.

Name. Didn't like the sound of it. But Hank was doing his best to reserve any kind of opinion on the guy or the situation. Might end up being nothing. Short-lived. And had to do a whole lot of reminding himself that it'd been two years. Olive was still just a girl in her mid-twenties. Had a whole lot of life ahead of her. And he couldn't expect her to be living like a monk or be holding a candle for Justin for the rest of her life. She'd be lonely. She'd have wants and needs. And deserved some help raising Henry and someone to love and care about her and look after her and her son. To be there for them. That that was going to happen eventually. That it should for a girl barely twenty-six. And that how he reacted and interacted with the situation would have a whole lot of implications for his relationship with her – which right now dictated the kind of relationship he could have with his grandson and that remaining connection to his son and wife.

So he'd been doing a whole lot of tongue-biting and keeping his thoughts and opinions to himself. Not just with Olive – with Magoo and Erin too. Though, E had done a bit of plugging at him to try to get some reaction out of him. To get him to engage. E was really bent out of shape about it. Too young to understand or see the whole picture. To fully appreciate just how fucking complicated all it was. To betray a bit that as much as he tried to set an example for his kids about relationships and marriage and family with what him and Camille had had – that the fact he still held a candle for Cami and still intended to go to his grave having lived in life and death for his wife – it'd confused E a whole lot about … relationships. Establishing them, keeping them, having them. He didn't have much of an example in his day-to-day life. Just him. And his example was that you had one spouse in your life. And he didn't know how to explain his actions contrasted to his permissiveness of Olive's. But he also knew he wasn't going to lose more people from his life right now. That what might just be a summertime infatuation and some minor distraction didn't warrant kicking up any kind of dust that might have fall-out for his relationship with Henry. That simple.

"Thinking of coming down to the splash pad at Fosco tomorrow," he offered. "Asking if we'd be around for H to get in some sandbox time."

"Not if all he wants to do is play monster truck mud rally," E muttered.

Hank grinned a little bit at that and looked over at his kid. "That's karma, kiddo." E gave him a confused look. "You know how many dinosaur digs everyone in this family has gone on out back?"

"Different," E muttered.

Hank allowed a small amused noise. "How's that?"

"Dinosaurs," he provided. Like that explained everything. In Magoo's plane of existence – sure seemed to explain and justify a lot.

"Ahh …," Hank rasped.

"Don't you think it's weird that Justin and Erin both ended up with kids with red hair?" E tilted phone at him.

Hank stared at it and allowed another little smile. "Think your mom would be telling you that they're all more strawberry blondes."

E made a little noise at that and went back to looking at the picture.

"Lot of blond in their genes," Hank provided. "Your mom. You. Erin."

He made a listening sound.

"Give it a bit of time," Hank provided. "H's darkened up."

"Not this summer," E said.

Hank shrugged. "That's summer. You always looked like we should have you down in Malibu," he said and stretched his arm to scruff at the near skinhead look that his son maintained now to try to hid all the bald patches that both his disease and all the side effects of his treatments had left. He missed his son's hair. His wife's hair on his boy.

The locks that Camille had refused to cut until they were getting ready for his second birthday and he hadn't wanted to have people over to his youngest looking like Goldilocks. Camille had cried taking him for that haircut. And Cami wasn't much of a crier about that sort of thing – or much of anything else. But this little significantly insignificant moment in the end of Ethan's baby-hood. Knew she'd be in tears now for a whole lot of different – more significant – reasons about Ethan's hairdo.

"Jay's not exactly a ginger," he added, leaning in just a bit to catch a look at the photo that had prompted that comment.

Eli. His hair was finally starting to show some interest in growing on his bald head. What was there definitely had some auburn in its faint fuzzy wisps. But hard to tell just yet.

"His brother is," E said flatly.

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged. "It will sort itself out. Still cute kids."

"You're bias," E said and handed the phone back to him.

Hank looked at it a bit. Had his Tilly Girl staring at him now. She was getting real good at her smiles. Those big, sparkling eyes of hers. Full of a whole lot of life. Not as much of a Grumpy Gus as EJ was most days. But EJ had some stuff going on to be grumpy about. Really was Mattie who was the best of the lot of them at calming her brother down. Interesting to watch. Them being close enough to touch each other usually helped a lot.

Wasn't going to argue E on his point. Was biased. All three of his grandkids were on the cute side of things. Something to be said for babies that came out looking cute. Can't say that of a whole lot of them. But was bias again in thinking the three of them had decent enough genes working in their favor when it came to the looks department.

Funny. With H he just saw a whole lot of Justin in him anymore when it came to looks. Hit on a whole lot of his memories of what J had looked like as a little boy. Olive had let him pull out – and give her – some of the photos to sort of prove it to them both. Not that you couldn't see Olive in H too. Really had when H was just a baby. But now just saw so much of his oldest boy.

And was finding that a lot with the twins too. The both of them had enough of Jay's features – Tilly and those eyes of hers – that you could tell he was their father. But there was a whole lot of Erin in them when it came to their facial structure. And right now it sure looked like Eli's grey eyes were settling into Erin's hazel with specks of his dad's green in there.

EJ's vision might end up being real shit but he had some real fascinating eyes in him. These real bright eyes that had a whole lot of soul and life in them. Could tell he was doing a whole lot of feeling and processing of his own. The two of them next to each other. Got Tilly's eyes sparkling and Eli's eyes just dancing. And could see that they were both just at the start of being a whole lot of trouble for their mom and dad.

Maybe a little bias about that enviable outcome too.

"It'll likely be kinda hot to be out back tomorrow," E said, pulling him away from staring at his grandkids some more. Been staring at them a whole lot since he'd been on the phone with Erin. Hated she was having to deal with all this with one of her own children. Hated for Eli that he was going to have some of these challenges from the get-go.

He grunted acknowledgement at E. Had said about the same to Olive. But between the splash pad down the block, the sprinkler in the backyard, the pool at her building and the city on a lake – figured she had it covered. Told her too she didn't need to ask permission to be in-and-out of the house or H to be using the sandbox. Had a key – come and go as she pleased.

"If you don't want to be playing with your nephew, wanted to get out to the mall," Hank said.

"You're on-call," E contended in vague excuse.

"Not how it works," Hank provided. "Need to pick up your supply list. Get some clothes."

"I don't need clothes," Ethan provided. "Uniform."

Hank just gave a smack at that. They'd be covering off the uniform bases too. Monday. Though, was going to have to make E try on what he had that weekend to see how any of it was fitting. Thought they might be okay for a lot of it. Though, some of it might need upgrading just from wear and tear. Maybe not. E had missed so much school wasn't like the outfits had gotten full use last year.

"There's nothing I want," E said instead.

Hank kept his eyes on him at that.

"Dad," E huffed out then. "I hate shopping for clothes."

"Think that's true of the majority of the male population."

E huffed again. "I hate getting clothes out of the boys' section."

"I'm not spending money on clothes that don't fit," Hank said – of their fucking semi-annual conversation and lament about E still not having graduated to the men's section.

"And you don't let me buy anything cool. You'll take me to Target and Old Navy and Dick's and that's not what people wear."

Hank kept eyes on him. "And, those stores, hundred bucks will get you a couple outfits. Not a sleeve of a shirt."

E made an annoyed noise. "I'd rather save the clothes money until winter – Christmas – and get something that I can actually wear without getting my balls busted about …"

"'Bout what?" Hank smacked at him.

E huffed and looked at him. "Everything," he pressed and smacked at the armrest. "Who I am and who were are and where we live and your job and money and … whatever."

And Hank just stared at him. His son staring off at the wall again. Fuming and angry at the world and all the shit he didn't have control over. And all the shit that Hank knew he couldn't fix for him. And having some brand name pair of $200 jeans and logo stitched into a fucking polo wasn't going to fix anything either. E knew that. And knew they wouldn't be throwing money at this "problem" like it was going to fix any of the other problems they had in their family's lives. They had a whole lot of other problems that needed actually money – that they didn't really have – thrown at them. And E knew that hard reality too.

"Don't have to be outfits to impress anyone at Ignatius," he offered. "Can pick something spiffy for Field's and RIC's end of summer bashes."

Ethan exhaled at that. "Don't …" he muttered.

Hank watched him. "Think there's a few ladies who'll be disappointed if you're planning on flaking on those shindigs."

Ethan sighed and looked at him. "Dad …"

Hank gave him a shrug. "Pretty sure Caroline is waiting for an RIC invite."

That little girl was pretty close to fawning over his son. Every time he picked up his kid from the Field's summer program that girl was in his little powwow group. And clearly all eyes for him. Wasn't quite sure that E had entirely picked up on it. Just like Hank didn't think Magoo realized how often he was mentioning this girl when he was giving a rundown of his day. Sounded like they were pretty attached at the hip that summer. And like they had more than a few things to talk about.

Pretty little thing too. Bit of a tomboy as far as Hank could tell and about the same level of geek as his son. A little shy – least round him. But most of the kids E was with got real quiet if he had to walk over from the car to retrieve his kid. And seemed to have to do that a lot.

Good group this summer – at Field in the Bridge program and the teen camp. Kids seemed to do a whole lot of hanging out and geeking out after they left the building. Oblivious to the time – or parents waiting to grab them and get them home. Or them getting their asses on the train and home by their own devices in a reasonable time span. But it was good. Good to see his son finding some group he was connecting with. And had to hope it'd span beyond the summer. That some of the kids would stick with the volunteer program at Field or join up with the Museum Club or come out to the different events for the high school kids.

When this Caroline did talk, that Hank had heard, could tell her was a bright little thing. And excitable. Got bubbly and smiley a lot when she was off on a tangent – just like Magoo. Though, E had pointed out the girl was a year his junior.

"I can't take her there," E said. "It will make things all … weird with Eva."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed. "Didn't get the impression she was staking any kind of claim on you."

"Dad, it's complicated," E hissed.

And was that. Wouldn't argue there either.

"Mmm …," he grunted.

And it got a bigger sigh. "If you're going to make me go clothes shopping, I want Erin to take me."

He shrugged at that. "Can ask," he provided. "But want it done this weekend and not sure she'll have the time."

"Erin takes me clothes shopping and we go to a movie," he said. "Tradition."

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged. "Could likely fit in a flick."

"You're on-call," E pressed at him with a gesture at the talkie.

"Could see what's playing in the park Saturday night," he suggested.

Ethan just sighed at him and went back to staring at the blank TV.

Hank just sat there staring at him. These days – more than not – he didn't know what to say to E. About any of it. And all of it.

Didn't know what to tell him about this niece and nephew and their health outlook and future outlook. Didn't know how to make the amount of time he was – and wasn't – getting with his sister better. Or easier for him to cope with and accept.

Didn't know how to argue with him about school and education and his future. To press for him to go for the standardize diploma rather than settling for this equivalency crap when he knew his son was just as smart as a whole lot of kids. And had a lot of real good, real translatable skills. That he just needed some more time and more patience than a lot of kids. But he didn't think that was asking too much. And E just needed to give himself the time and the patience too. To believe in himself and his future – and that he'd still be around – for it to be worth getting a real high school diploma. That he could still go to college if that was what he wanted. That he could go after a trade. That he was good with his hands – even though his hands and tremor betrayed him. But that drafting or working on cars or something could be an option.

That he was still so good at sports. And that fight and drive and talent in him made Hank so fucking proud of him. Because the kid just didn't give up. He found a fucking way. And he excelled at it all. Over and over again. Proved himself over and over again.

Didn't know how to tell him to stop worrying about what kids at school thought of him. Or what girls at school thought of him. Or about what puberty would find him. Or how tall he'd be. Or if a girl would ever want to date him or kiss him or sleep with him. To not get down about the girls who weren't interested in him in that way. To trust that there was still someone out there for him. That he wasn't Hank and he wasn't Camille (that Eva or this Caroline weren't likely going to be Camilles either). But there was going to be some girl out there who'd see him for him and not care about the scars or the disability or the ticking time bomb that was Eth's more-time-limited-than-most lease on life. That she'd see all the things that he loved and admired about his son – and than some. And she'd be more than willing to wait for him to hit his growth spurt and his body to catch up. That he'd still eventually become physically the man he already was in a whole lot of ways.

How to stress to him that he wasn't from a family of tall men anyway. How to tell him again that J didn't really have puberty fully hit him in the face until he was about a junior either. That he didn't need to be in such a fucking hurry about all this shit all the time. To worry so much.

Didn't know how to tell him to cope with his health and well-being. Hank didn't know how to cope some days on his own. But he still believed every fucking day that his son had a future. And needed to live. And he was still fighting for those things for his boy every day. Even when he was fucking failing.

Didn't know how to talk to him about Al or his mom or his work or his own failures as a friend, father and husband. Other than to keep telling him that he was trying his fucking best. For what that was worth.

And so much of it just felt like conversations E didn't want to have with him. Conversations that Hank didn't feel like he was the best person to be guiding.

"Want to go to the park tonight," E finally near whispered out.

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. "They doing a screening tonight?"

E shrugged and turned to look at him. "I need to hit something," he said firmly. And Hank kept his eyes. "You pitch. I hit."

But his voice trembled a bit.

And Hank kept his eyes. Kept his eyes and held out his arms. And waited. Barely a split second before E collided with his body from across the couch.

All that fucking space and silence between them that afternoon – just gone.

And he held his boy. And his boy held him. Tight.

Quiet, staggered breathing out of his kid's lungs – buried somewhere against his shoulder.

"I'm kinda scared," E whispered off over his shoulder.

And Hank held him tighter. "Me too," he rasped. "It's allowed."

And acknowledgement. Or any of it – all of it. Sometimes that was the best starting point in getting any of these other conversations rolling.


	5. A Bite

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Jay glanced up from spearing at the sad looking diced up iceberg lettuce trying to masquerade as a side salad on his plate. Not that you could really call it at a salad when he hadn't thought to ask for the dressing on the side and now the wilted vegetables were just swimming in what had been supposed to be some sort of poppy seed vinaigrette. Definitely didn't taste like what Erin whipped up at home – that he knew wasn't her recipe or creation (since it didn't come out of a microwave or toaster – or a can). And the whole mess in the side bowl really looked more like soup – a really, really sad and disgusting soup too – than anything resembling a healthy salad.

This wasn't the kind of place you order anything resembling healthy from, though. He should've just ordered the fries. It was exactly the kind of greasy spoon that would have the exact kind of fries that Erin would actually eat. The kind she likely lived off of (out of alley garbage bin leftovers – not that she'd ever phrased it quite that way but she'd said enough that reading between the lines it was pretty clear there were periods in the 'doing what she had to do' to eat had also meant dumpster diving. But that was still a better option than some of the other 'what she had to dos' that they really only ever talked about on her terms by not directly talking about that.) as a kid. So if he'd ordered fries, she'd have smelled it on him when he got home. Probably as soon as he got in the door the way this place reeked of grease. As it was she was likely still going to tell he'd been here for lunch and hours later be accusing him of ordering something she would've wanted and giving him eyebrow about not bring cold, grosser leftovers (or an order all of her own) home. Because a girl has got to eat.

He hadn't wanted to come here in the first place. He'd tried to weasel his way out of it as soon as Voight had said "going to get a bite". Seemed like a general announcement that he was going to be out of District for a bit. Only it hadn't been when he'd been standing over Jay's desk when he'd made that announcement. And stared at him when his nod of acknowledgement wasn't enough – not letting him stay fixed on the paperwork that in any other situation he would've been thrilled to take a bit of a break from. But that clearly hadn't been an option. He'd gotten the smack and stared at until he looked up again. And had just gotten a, "You coming?"

It wasn't a question. It was an order. And even though Jay'd slouched back in his chair and stared at him square in the eye right back – trying to make clear that he really didn't want to, it didn't make much difference. What you wanted only counted for so much with Voight. Even in home-life – family-life – it only counted for so much with Hank Voight too. But that was the thing, sometimes – a lot of times – these days it was getting harder to separate the home-life and family ties from the whole work thing. Even though they mostly kept it professional.

It was complicated. Too fucking complicated some days. Some cases. Some of the shit going on with the Ivory Tower and the continued "reform" of the Chicago Police and the microscope Intelligence fucking lived under. So much for being an infamous under the radar unit. Felt like they were pretty much constantly on someone's radar.

Complicated too because Jay had come to accept that in a whole lot of ways Voight was grooming him. He'd proven himself as good police – or Voight's definition of good police. Not just that – "potential" to be "great police". Voight's words. His definition. And he might've scoffed at that previously. A lot. Wasn't trying to fit anyone's definition of the job. Least of all Voight's definition of the job and what made great police. It wasn't why he did the job – needed the job. Five, six years ago, wouldn't have wanted to be near that title. To fit into those rules and convictions Hank Voight lived by. He wouldn't have given a damn. Just like Hank didn't give a damn what anyone thought of who he was and what he stood for – accept his family and how'd they'd remember the man he was and the father he was.

And maybe that was a whole lot of the 'that was then, this is now' shift. Jay had gotten to know Hank Voight not just as the cop – good, dirty, necessary cop. Great police? But he'd gotten to know the man. And not just the man – he'd gotten to see the father. The grandfather. To see what a family man actually looked like. What a spouse – a widower – on the job could … should … actually be. If they were going to be the kind of man and cop that Hank Voight was. The potential that was there.

And Jay got that more. He'd taken the incremental blessings and praise that Hank Voight had slowly given him over the years. Bit by bit, case by case, moment by moment. Not just on the job. At home. As a person who'd been allowed into the family.

It hadn't just been grooming on the job that had been going on. Jay was starting to get that too. Voight had been covertly – sometimes not so much – molding him into the kind of man that he wanted around his daughter, his grandchildren. For better or worse – because he sure as fuck wasn't perfect in either of those areas. Not for Erin or for the twins. But he wasn't getting groomed by a guy that had exactly been a perfect husband or father either. Who really ever fucking was? But at least he was trying.

Knew some of the grooming had started last year. With Erin gone. With Hank having to take his own leave to deal with his son – to try to make things right. Just the kind of cases Voight threw him. The responsibilities and leads he got handed. When – how – he got to run the bullpen. Lead the team. The things Voight called on him to run point on. But it'd shifted again now with Al gone. With the Ivory Tower breathing hot and heavy down their necks. With the bigger change in dynamic with Antonio being in the room and all the shifts with the rest of them. Sides that were – had been – taken, and the dust still settling. The cohesiveness still being found to be doing the job the way they all wanted to be.

Jay knew he'd gotten the label he'd told Erin to run from. That more people than just him in CPD had told her to be careful about. Jay knew he'd become one of Voight's guys. That that would follow him for the rest of his career with CPD. That there'd be questions about if – how – he was still carrying water for Voight. What that meant about the kind of police he was.

And as much as that bothered him – some days it just didn't. Because he'd done some work at accepting he understood a lot of it. He knew where Voight was in his head. He knew that loss. He knew how shit like … Al … just changed things. Maybe everything different. And because he knew the man. Even when he was off-leash there was still good police in Voight. He was right – he was necessary for the city. Just like when you're in theater – you have to do the necessary. And it isn't always pretty. And it's the kind of stuff that haunts you for the rest of your life. But sometimes there's just shit that someone has to be doing. So the rest of the world – the country, the city – can keep living their lives in the little bubble of alternate reality they'd created for themselves.

So even on the days it bothered him – Jay did some mental coaching to himself about why he did the job too. Why he still loved the job – even on the days he didn't love the man. And he respected that. He respected that Voight was still letting him do a slow climb of the ladder when Jay knew that a lot of CPD would be writing him off because of the turn he'd taken. Because of Intelligence and their cases and some of the shit he'd gotten himself into all on his own and because of who his C.O. was. And because he was with Erin too. But he was being allowed to work his way up in this unit. In the dysfunctional family that still had each other's backs even now when they had lines drawn in the sand. And Jay knew that if he stuck it out – did his job – eventually he could have the command. He'd get given his own crew. Be able to take the lead in running his own ops. He'd be making bigger, different calls – about what was important to him as a man and a cop and what he thought this city needed. What kind of city he needed – wanted – for the family he was raising there. And that fucking counted for something.

So he kept paying his dues. For now. Meant paying his dues to Voight too.

So if he was being told – ordered – out for a bite, he'd made himself go without putting on much of a show about it. Ignoring the looks from the rest of the team. And Hailey.

It didn't happen often. So he'd thought something was up. Racked his brain some on the drive over to this place about what he'd done lately on the job that warranted some kind of dressing down – for not aligning with Voight's ideas about how run a case or operate under the veil of proper police procedure that covered up any lines you may be blurring – so you could cross – along the way in getting the job done. Something that pissed him off enough that it didn't warrant a public dressing down in the bullpen – or in his office with the door closed but the blinds left open so everyone could see that you'd pissed him off or outright fucked up by any standard. But he couldn't come up with one – and had started to think for Voight to be pulling him out of the bullpen, that the dressing down he was about to get was likely more within the family realm. That Erin had said something about … something … and Hank was doing the over-protective dad thing, which would piss both him and Erin off, because he was butting into both of their business and being over-bearing about … fucking everything. But he also couldn't come up with anything specific that he would've done that would've pissed Erin off lately enough that she'd go venting to Hank about it. Beyond the usual. But Jay had a long list of the usual too that Erin did that drove him fucking nuts too. Erin and stay-at-home-mom'ing was a level of torture for all of them. He was pretty sure even the twins were getting to the point they were like, "Let her go back to work part-time at least, Dad, because she's even grumpier than us at 2 a.m."

But whatever was up Hank's ass – he hadn't said anything. So far. Hadn't said a word on the drive over to the diner. Only thing he'd said to Jay in the place was "Some order" after the waitress had left their table. Apparently turkey club on wheat minus the mayo and bacon, substituted with mustard with this combined salad-turned-soup he'd gotten didn't fit Hank's lunch standards. At this place.

"Yea, well, not getting to the gym much lately," he'd mumbled at him. And it'd just gotten a grunted acknowledgement.

Besides he wasn't going to pack on the calories and artery blockage at a place like this. He could think of better places to throw the diet-watch to the wind. And a better dining partner if he was going to do it.

He actually needed to figure that out. He was going to have to break down and ask Hank or Olive … or Will, if he got particularly desperate … to watch the twins for a few hours so him and Erin could get out of the house. And not get out of the house to do groceries without toting two babies around with them. To get a real dinner or a real drink. Or something. It wasn't like their dating had looked much like dating before the babies. Jay wasn't really sure he'd even say they'd ever really dated. So he really had no idea what the fuck a "date night" was supposed to look like now. It seemed like some sort of upper-middle-class Millennial lexicon that didn't relate to their personalities or lifestyles. But he also knew they needed to figure out some way at this point to get at least a couple nights a month where they had some time where it was them as them without them trying to figure out how to deal with babies – and diapers and spit up and bottles and laundry and still figuring out sleep hygiene and deciding when to move the kid's out of bassinets next to their bed (not even their bed – the bed that was supposed to be in Ethan's 'guest room') and when and how and where to have sex – post-baby and with babies that where in the room you were currently sleeping in.

Babies had definitely redefined their relationship in a relationship that had still needed a lot of work in defining in the first place. Sometimes he still didn't know what the fuck they were doing or where they were at. The only solace he took in it was that Erin seemed in about the same place. And, they really only had so much time – or energy left – to want to talk about it. But they had.

Maybe if they started carving out some "them" time – such a fucking jagoff notion, it felt like – they'd do better at figuring it out. And even if they didn't, he was still pretty sure Erin would jump at the chance to at least get a real meal. And likely some time out of the house.

Though, maybe not. She'd striped their cupboards and fridge to an even more health freak level than he'd had it. Though, part of that likely had more to do with her avoiding having to go to the grocery store with two babies in tow on her own and just texting him random shit to pick up before he showed his face at home. But she was spouting a lot more about needing to watch what she was eating while she was just stuck at home with the kids.

He wasn't sure that was entirely necessary. It wasn't like she'd put on a ton of weight during the pregnancy – and what she had had nearly all been babies. And with caring for the babies and dragging those car seats around and up-and-down the stairs to get crap – he was pretty sure she was burning off any calories and gaining a whole lot of muscle mass.

Beyond the nasty-looking scar from the crash C-section and some changes in the way she was holding 'fat' in her thighs (according to her more than him), he thought she'd pretty much gone back to her pre-babies body. More or less.

She had – and saw – more problems with the body (image) situation than he did. Not all that she said out loud, but he'd leave it at a whole lot of skin products and creams had appeared in their bathroom that seemed to be being rubbed a lot more all over her abdomen (and what he assumed she'd labeled as 'stretch marks') than her usual leg moisturizing routine that had gone on with a bottle she had sitting on the night stand before bed. The leg thing was a lot sexier than her slapping this stuff all over herself not-so-covertly in front of the bathroom mirror.

They should – needed to – likely start figuring out something so Erin could get back more into some kind of fitness routine too. Help her feel better about – stuff. And just get her out of the house. But it was hard with his schedule. She was usually done by the time he got home and took over kid stuff. If she did go out, it wasn't for herself. It was for errands crap. More often she usually just took that period when he got home to go take a shower and go upstairs and close the door for a while. He wasn't sure even if he pushed her going out for a run or to the gym she'd be that interested. Not when he was getting in after a 10, 12, 16 hour shift. Quiet and sleep seemed to be the priority. Or just random household shit and errands that needed to get done that took forever with two babies in tow.

He'd tried telling her to look into like stuff she could take the babies too. They had a fucking community center and pool as their next door neighbor basically. But stollercize wasn't exactly Erin's scene – or the kind of moms (and really not the kind of dads) that went to that stuff. And the swimming ones needed one person per baby and with his schedule – and inability to commit to actually being there – meant paying for it would mean their fee would be going down the drain most weeks. He wasn't sure either of them were really at the point they were too ready to be dragging the kids into the cesspool that was parent and tot Park District activities yet either. Especially now with them getting into flu season again. Seemed like it was just asking for them to get sick and end up spending even more time in the hospital.

Maybe they'd have to see if they could budget to afford a gym that had like a babysitting service so she could go and get in a workout and the kids could be watched. But that got into the whole thing of germs and flu again. And letting randoms watch their kids who likely didn't know shit about preemies. So that probably wasn't going to work yet either.

Maybe "date night" would just end up being them going to the gym. They could both use it. He knew he was shriveling up and packing on the wrong kind of weight too. And Erin likely wouldn't mind the excuse to punch him, if they went over to the boxing gym. More than once. Or the beer afterwards. More than one there too.

But if any of that shit had been thought processes or frustrations that Erin had presented in any kind of way to Hank – he wasn't letting on that was the reason for the lunch either. He was saying jack-all.

He'd sat there paging through a print edition while they waited for their meal – occasionally scouting out the other patrons there like maybe he was waiting for someone or something to pop. But he wasn't giving him a heads up if that was the case. And then he'd state there just eating his open-faced chopped steak with mash and green beans (that looked and smelled a hell of a lot better than what Jay'd ordered) in silence too – occasionally picking up his phone when it vibrated on the table.

"Something happening at District?" Jay finally asked at the latest buzz – and just fucking sick of the silent treatment. Even if the less that got said around Hank – a lot of times the better.

But Hank just grunted – a negative – and that time seemed to smile a bit at the phone. Didn't just pick it up, started keying something in.

"Magoo," Hank rasped. "Just killing it in his drafting course."

Jay allowed a quiet sound of acknowledgement at that. That was good. But maybe kind of wished it was something at work so they could wrap this up a bit.

Hank gave him a glance. He clearly was expected to be more stoked about Eth 'killing it' in his CAD course than he was.

"Got a 98 on first test of the term," Hank nodded at him and looked back to the phone, shaking his head a bit before giving him another glance. "Brought home his first graded assignments out of Biology too this week. Showing up in his portal as sitting at about an A- in that class. First time I've seen the kid bringing home grades and teacher comments like that since he was about seven years old."

And he went back to the phone. It just sitting there. And Jay knew that what it really meant was since Eth's traumatic brain injury. And all the instability that'd been in his life since then. The weirdly bright kid who was still weirdly bright but in a weirder – and more delayed, neuro-atypical – kind of way.

"Must be proud of himself," Jay allowed. Could tell Hank was proud. And he likely had a right to be. Those kinds of grades weren't something that they didn't get to take for granted in that family. A lot of time and effort went into trying to keep Eth caught up in any kind of meaningful way. And knew that Hank had had to do a whole lot of fighting and advocating in the private school – as a subsidized family – to get his son the kind of help and accommodation and exemptions he needed.

Been a big negotiation process to get Ethan streamed the way that the kid wanted – leading him in a direction that latched onto the skills and interests and know-how he had. His strong-points and areas he'd actually work at and challenge himself in and not just turn into a frustrated, contradictory puddle of angst and anger. Knew Hank had fought long and hard with the school before Eth's freshman year and right through that summer to him entering soph to get him moving into the track that he felt would give his kid the best fighting-chance for the kind of future and challenges he had in front of him. So it actually working – for now – and proving the school administrators wrong about what – and where – they wanted to do and put the kid and what Hank thought – knew – his kid was actually capable of. It was a bit of another fuck you to Ignatius. Hank would like that.

Hopefully it didn't blow up in anyone's faces as the year went one.

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged. "Seems to think it warrants a trip out to Gallagher Way tonight."

"October baseball …" Jay allowed.

It got another grunt.

"You planning on trying to get him to any post-season games?"

That got an even more dismissive grunt. "Unless I win the lotto, he's watching from the couch," he said but looked down at his phone. "He keeps up these marks, though, might get to watch a couple on the screen at Gallagher. But likely more cruising for detention with how much he's pulling his phone out today."

"Eth can be sneaky," Jay provided.

That got a more amused sound out of Hank. They both knew too that with Eth's mobility set up, you could usually hear him coming a mile away. And the kid wasn't so sneaky even when he thought he was being all-covert. Hank had definitely been extending the length of the kid's leash that summer and fall but he still had the kid on a lead. And had a whole lot of eyes on him. The minimal conversations they did have, he'd heard out of Hank's mouth more than once that he'd taken his eyes off his family too much before – and wasn't going to be making that mistake in the same way again.

"Could win the lotto," Hank said instead with a nod at him. "RIC's doing a fundraiser. Three-on-three derby. Got some tickets that they'll be prizing out."

Jay nodded. "That will attract some attention."

Another grunt. "Good," he graveled. "Get some funds for the lab and for the league. Those kids shone a real light this summer. Really showed what community and inclusion is all about. Deserve to get some attention."

Jay nodded a little and picked at his soup-and-salad. Getting Hank on the topic of his kid and sports – and inclusion – was pretty much poking at a rabid dog. You had to be careful with how you engaged. There was some baggage wrapped up in it for the guy. Big time.

"Could use a third," he put to him.

Jay met his eyes at that. "That's what this is about," he shook his head. Hank gave him a look. Jay gestured between him. "I thought … something was up. The job. Erin."

It got a smack and his eyes still set on him. "The barn. Kid. Just wanted a beat out of the animal house. Thought you sixty-some of the same wouldn't hurt you either."

Jay made his own wayward acknowledgement of that and picked at his meal some more. You don't realize how much down-time you had to yourself even with the job until you've got two babies at home. Time to yourself just didn't exist right now. He'd always thought since being back state-side that downtime was the bane of his existence. He preferred the job taking up as much of his 24/7 as possible. That it was better for him that way. But even then he was realizing that some of that time on the job still counted as time to yourself. Doing your own thing that you wanted to do because you thought it was the best thing for you. Now, there were a whole lot of days that he had to stop and give his head a shake to remind himself to keep his head on the job and not to be worrying about what was going on with Erin or the twins right that minute. Which some days was hard. And then more days than not, he just wanted the hour-hand to get him off the city-clock so he could get home and see Erin and the kids. To be there for them and help out. And not be missing out on the whole lot of random crap that happens – incrementally but seemingly way too fast – with babies. But then also sat there with the kids fussing and pooing and waking them up at night and wondering when it'd be at the point that downtime and your own time – quiet time – existed again.

If it ever did. He sort of already knew the answer to that. That it would. Eventually. But it'd never be the same and what he needed and wanted out of it would be different. His priorities would be different. They already were.

Hank made another dismissive noise and just gestured at his meal. "Just wanted some chopped steak too," he said. "Never get to eat like this anymore. Magoo's diet."

Jay nodded a bit at that.

Hank forked at what was left on his plate too. He'd been working at more than cleaning up his plate. He'd asked the waitress to bring over an extra piece of bread and had been working at sopping up the gravy. The parts of the plate that were clean – were pretty much licked clean. The bus boy wouldn't have to wash up those dishes too carefully.

"Me and Al came here for a bite some," he muttered.

Jay gave him a glance at that. Hank hadn't said much about Al to him. Or anyone in the unit as far as he could tell. Jay suspected he hadn't said much about him – or any of this fallout – to much of anyone.

"Real cop joint," Hank said. "One of the last real diners in this part of Chicago. My pop used to bring me here as a kid. Chopped steak. Eat like a king at The Palace," he graveled with some actual humor to it and gestured at the meal that looked pretty close to standard diner slop.

"'Steak' for lunch," Jay allowed with a shrug. "Would've seemed like royal dining for me as a kid."

Hank made a sound of acknowledgement at that. "Brought Justin here a bit. His mom. Not their cup of tea."

Jay made an amused sound at that. "Should've brought Erin."

Hank allowed a little smile at that and glanced down at the paper placemat masquerading as a menu. "Think I had her in about every diner this side of Chicago." His finger jabbed at The Palace Burger – what sounded like a ½ pound mess of grease. "If she couldn't be getting a stack of pancakes and a plate of bacon, a fucking gallon of coffee and enough glasses of OJ that I better get OT that week – it'd be burgers the size of her head and a plate of fries."

"Girl can eat …" Jay mumbled.

Hank gave him a small sound of amused acknowledgement at that. "Yea, well, her circumstances meant she had some hallow legs to be putting all that in."

She must've heard them talking about her because his phone vibrated too and he picked it up to take a look. His face must've more than said who it was.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Ahh …," Jay hesitated for a moment, giving him a glance and going back to grinning at the picture Erin had just popped through.

"Not the kind of look most guys give to messages coming in for anything to do with work," Hank graveled between his bite.

Jay shook his head a bit and turned the phone to Hank. He let him take a look at Eli – blue rimmed, wrap around glasses strapped to his head. And Edjeg was grinning like a drooling fool. Nowhere near looking like the book worm coming out of an apple that Erin had predicted. Or a Minion – that been her other prediction when they'd be presented with the severely limited frame options for infants. He actually looked pretty damn cute and pretty damn happy about supposedly having the world more in focus for him.

"Oh, wow," Hank said and took the phone from him for a second to take a better look. "Those make his dimples pop, don't they."

"And his ears," Jay provided.

That got a snort of vague amusement out of Hank as he handed the phone back to him. "He'll grow into them."

"The ears or the glasses," Jay muttered, taking another look at the picture and working at texting his response to Erin. They'd pretty much settled into everyone telling them – on repeat – that Mattie looked like him and EJ looked more like her. Minus the ears. Erin had pointed out on more than one occasion – 'he's got your big ears'. It was nowhere near a compliment to either him or his son.

"Hopefully both," Hank said. "They sending him home with those today?"

Jay made a little sound and shook his head as he finished replying to Erin and put the phone back down. "Those are just try-ons. Doctor wants to wait a few more months. Wants us to do these 'eye exercises' with him. Like that's going to happen with a six-month-old. And is to do a patch first and see if that strengths his eye a bit."

"H will love that," Hank said. "Be stealing it from him. Pirate for Hallow's Eve."

"Yea, well, I don't think Eli will be too thrilled about keeping a patch on anyway," he said. "I'd prefer to just get started with the glasses. Not waste fucking more time with this. It's his health. His vision."

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. "Erin couldn't get him on the same page?"

He made a minor frustrated sound. Dealing with the pediatrician ophthalmologist had been a fucking nightmare after they were discharged from the hospital.

The fucking torture they'd put Eli through in following the progression and regression of his ROP until vascularization of his eye completed properly. Strapping him down and dilating his eyes and clamping back his eyelid and poking at his eyeball. It fucking triggered Jay too. Felt like some nasty shit you heard about – and sometimes saw with too much realism – in Afghanistan. Some torture he'd had to endure himself – as an adult fucking man.

And with this they had to put their son – his son - through that. A baby. Way too many fucking times. Even more times than what was cited by Dr. Google and every other parent on any preemie forum he'd gone onto wondering what the fuck was going on with his kid that the doctors felt the need to keep doing this test over and over and over again. And scaring them with talk about "blindness" and not defining what "legally blind" actually meant and how it fit into what was going on with his son's eyes. Not to mention every time they dilated EJ's eyes, they spent the next day back at the hospital the torture treatment they put him through to look at his retinas threw him off so much and caused his fragile body so much stress.

"We're back in in like six weeks," he said. "I'm going to put in to take it as baby furlough."

Hank grunted acknowledgement at that. "What are the doctors saying?"

Jay's phone vibrated again and he looked down at it to read the next message. "Ahh …," he managed as he read Erin's next message and then looked back up at Hank.

Erin might tell Hank the good, the bad, the ugly and the illegal – but apparently because of circumstances in the weeks they'd spent in NICU he'd landed himself in the designated position as purveyor of medical information to … pretty much everyone. He knew Erin still told Hank a lot of this stuff. But Jay also got the sense that Hank kept his follow-up questions from him. Or just checked in with both of them to see if they'd heard or taken away different information from their various appointments.

"About the same. The one eye is the bigger problem. This appointment they were still testing it at 20/200."

"That still what's got them tossing around this legally blind thing?"

Jay made a frustrated sound. "Yea, but these eye tests for babies. And getting him to hold still. Erin has trouble holding him down the way they want her to. I do too. He just fucking wails like you're trying to …" Kill him. But he didn't want to say that. Ever. So he just shook his head. "I'll go next time. Hold him. Try the test again."

He stabbed at his food a bit. Could feel Hank watching him. So he looked up. Tried to calm himself. Put on the presentation that he was being level-headed about any of this.

"Either way, it's looking like he's going to be extremely farsighted, and lazy-eyed," he managed more evenly. "But the good news is so far he's not going cross-eyed."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed.

So Jay went back to trying to pick up his sandwich. He was seeing more why Hank had gone with an open-faced one that you could eat with a fork and knife. This thing had pretty much been falling apart on him since it'd been put in front of him. Just like the now sometimes felt so fucking fragile too.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **This is a split scene. The continuation will be posted later tonight or into tomorrow. Watch for it — especially if it falls under the 24 hour gap mark.**


	6. Wiffle

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

PLEASE CHECK THE CHAPTER IMMEDIATELY PRIOR TO THIS. THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF THAT CHAPTER AND THEY WERE POSTED BACK-TO-BACK WITH LESS THAN 24 HOURS BETWEEN THEM.

"You okay?" Hank asked after letting Jay pick up his sandwich just enough to toss it back into a bigger mess on the plate. He might as well just eat it with his fork and knife too. Though, at this point he didn't have much of an appetite.

"Yea …," Jay muttered and retrieved his fork to poke at it.

It sat there for a moment. His non-response response.

"Erin doing alright with all this?" he asked instead.

"Erin's a force of nature …," Jay muttered. And let it sit there as he felt Hank still staring at him. So he made himself look at him.

Hank allowed him a thin-lipped smile. "Didn't have that figured out before …"

Jay let himself smile a bit, nod a bit. "Yea," he acknowledged. "It's different now."

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. "Seems to work that way."

And it did. More than Jay would've ever expected. Erin was still Erin in a lot of ways. But there were these added layers to her now in the way he saw her. He knew they were layers - and labels and definitions - that Erin had been worried about. What becoming a mother actually meant for her - and her identity. And maybe he'd worried about it a bit too. About how she'd let him see her or perspective her. What that might do for their relationship and dynamic. And their sex life. Their friendship.

But even though things had definitely changed - a whole lot, in a whole lot of different ways - she was still the person he'd fallen in love with. Still the biggest cheerleader and supporter he'd found in his life. And now there were a whole lot of moments that he just looked at her in this sort of ... awe. Just ... this different kind of strength she'd shown. In the pregnancy and in NICU. And now with the babies at home and figuring out and managing it. And just how she managed it and balanced all of it - even when she thought she was losing her mind and herself. She just had this strength about the way she held herself and went about it and just fucking dealt with all of it. Dealt with these two little people they'd made - and that she'd grown in her body and given birth to. This family they'd created.

And it made him see her and love her and appreciate her in a whole different way than before. To respect her even more than he had or than he thought possible. To hold her at this different level - or on this different pedestal. In a way that made him feel ... even more confused about why his father had been the way he'd been with his mother and with them. About guys who didn't fight to keep their family. To keep their wives. At the ones who talked shit about their spouse and kids when they were out of earshot. He didn't get that. Especially now. Even on the days he felt so fucking tired and frustrated himself - he couldn't wrap his head around ... disrespecting hi family in that way. Feeling that way about them. Because he pretty much felt even more than before that Erin - that Eli and Mattie - they were making him a better person. A better man. A better cop. They just made him want to be better for them - full stop, and pulling out all the stops.

They were forces of nature - and they were making him change his nature.

"They all are," Jay managed again and looked back at his food. "The three of them. It's just …" he shrugged.

Amazing. But felt like a a bit of douche saying it. It was something he didn't know how to say - the words - or who to say it to. He didn't have people in his life that he could talk to about that. Will didn't fucking get it. Even now he still fucking romanticized everything - with Natalie and Owen and talked about those relationships and that dynamic in a way that Jay couldn't wrap his head around either. He couldn't say it to anyone at work. They'd just bust his balls about it. And they weren't at a point in their life they'd get it either. Maybe he could say some of it to Antonio - but they were on different pages right now. They were in different books - or different people's books and pockets. And Antonio was still ... mixed up from his own marriage - and divorce - and dealing with strained relationships with teen-aged kids who'd grown up in a cop family that broke up so that sort of tainted any kind of real talk they could have as any kind of bros. Maybe that was part of the problem - talking to Antonio - off the job - always felt a bit too much like bro talk and Jay wasn't good at being a bro. Maybe he could've said something to Al. Al'd get it. But Al didn't do a lot of talking either, which might've made it a more meaningful conversation - or at least an exchange of sentences. He likely could've - would've - talked to Mouse but as it was he'd barely gotten a congrats (more like a string of emojis and exclamation marks) when he'd shot him a note and pics of the twins. He missed having Greg around to talk and not talk to. Now he was pretty much stuck with the options of group - which he wasn't making or finding a lot of time for right now - or his therapist, who he talked to. But she wasn't a friend and she wasn't a guy who'd been there in the way he was there right now either. Though maybe she was the kind of woman who liked hearing some guy swoon over the amazingness of the mother of his children. But that made him feel kind of pathetic too.

But they were. Amazing. All three of them made him want to be better. To do better. Erin did. And the babies did. Everything they were going through – and how hard they were fighting. And how much they were growing and developing and changing.

For all the worries at the start – and some of the worries they still had – these kids were just making leaps and bounds. They told them not to expect their kids to catch up developmentally until at least a year. Likely more like three or four years. And, yeah, they were behind. But sometimes it didn't feel like by much. Especially Mattie.

She was pushing it. She was her mom. She might have his looks – according to everyone but him – but her personality was a whole lot of Erin in a whole lot of ways. Stubborn and determined. She was already rolling on her belly and getting her head up. She'd figured out how to get her hands and knees under her and Jay knew it was only going to be a matter of time before she figured out how to do more than just rock herself until she tumbled back onto her belly. She was going to be crawling and into everything soon. He just hoped he wasn't at work when she realized the muscle movement and coordination she needed to start really having them running all over the house with them.

And with her refusing to be held back any with all these expectations and milestones that the doctors spouted at them – her insistent on defying them – she was just pushing and pulling Edjeg along too. For how much Jay'd worried during the pregnancy that they were going to end up with the twin paradox of a bossy sister domineering over the boy and what sort of implications that would have on Eli as a person and as a man – it turned out that maybe he needed that bossy sister. Mattie wasn't exactly bossing him around or walking all over him yet. It was more like she was charging ahead to blaze a trail for him to come through on his own a bit more easily and he was bound and determined in his own way to keep up.

EJ might be a little behind his sister. His milestones might be more around what the doctors were telling them to expect. But you could see he was constantly looking to Mattie – and literally reaching for her – and doing his best to go right on with her as best he could. He was a whole different kind of persistent and stubborn. And curious. For all the shit the doctors were giving them about his vision, he was the one who sat looking at things – and them – and smiling and coo'ing. He was the one that started making babbling sounds first – and Jay was already convinced that one of his sounds had pretty definitely been 'dada' even though Erin told him he was more than imaging things and needed to go and get some rack time. But EJ definitely had babble going. Mattie did a whole lot of grunting and growling at them – and the world. He was pretty sure he'd inherited that from her mother as well. Something Erin also disagreed with. But Jay wasn't going to stake claim to that being his character trait. If Erin wouldn't accept it as her genetics – than he'd at least pass it off as a familial trait. It was only a matter of time before their daughter was grunting and smacking just like her grandfather (something that Jay had already pointed out too that she pretty much did but had gotten smacked for that one – by Erin – case and point). And it was Eli who would lay on his back and stare at and reach for his toys. Mattie just shook the living daylights out of them. Or smacked them right away.

They were amazing. And so funny to watch. So inspiring to watch. And this strange never-ending awe of 'I made that' for everything they did.

Even though they were so beyond exhausting. And frustrating. And created this level of helplessness that Jay wasn't sure he'd entirely knew existed in quite that way. The way it sat in your gut and chest in even these home-front, state-side, off-the-job moments. But it was a job – on the home-front – and it was different and more important than some of the other uniforms and ranks he'd had covering his body before. Because he 'made that'. This. Them. And right now there were only two people in the whole fucking world – existence – who'd know him by the job title 'daddy'. Or 'dada' for now. It wasn't all in his head that Eli had said that.

And Jay did know that Hank did get it. He got how it worked as a dad. And a cop who was a dad. And with a woman - who was your best friend. He got it because he knew Erin - and loved her too. And he was seeing Eli and Mattie grow and change and fight through all this in their early months. So he fucking knew. Knew they were amazing too. All three of them.

"Yea, funny how that works," Hank acknowledged.

"She's … a great mom," Jay allowed. "I know the at-home-mom thing isn't what she wants. But she really is … killing it too."

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged again. "She hasn't said much about what she's thinking about all that."

Jay allowed a sound. This wasn't just about recruiting him as a third for a wiffle ball rally. This was a minor interrogation.

"Unless I transfer out, it kind of is what it is," Jay said.

It got a grunt. "No shame in wanting – needing – a bit more stability and predictability when your kids are little," he said. "Less about the kind of cop you want to be and more about the kind of family man you want to be."

"Yea, well, unless I transfer back down to patrol and look at volunteering for permanent nights, I don't think anywhere else would be much better."

Hank allowed an acknowledgement. "Homicide," he provided. "Outside of the first forty-eight when you catch something."

Jay poked at his food. He'd thought of that. But he didn't really want to work Homicide. Not his kind of game. Not the kind of cop he was.

"Patrol, you could look at opting into a special assignment," Hank offered. "Take another run at SWAT."

Jay looked at him. "You trying to get rid of me?"

Hank shook his head and took a bit of his food. "Just making sure you know there's options. If you need them."

Jay shook his head. "We're just going to stay the course for the year," he said. "Go from there."

Originally they hadn't been talking a year. Erin hadn't wanted to be home for a whole year. But the twins' arrival and health issues - and endless appointments - had pretty much changed that. It was okay for now. They were managing. Technically the Investigator's Office over in New York needed to hold her job open for her for a year. It was pretty much a given that she had no intentions of going back, but it sort of looked good on paper and provided some kind of safety net if it came down to them needing it. Though, Jay wasn't sure it counted as a safety net if they needed to up-root their lives and family to land anywhere in it. But it seemed to make Erin feel better about the whole situation. Meant she got some calls from the office now and then now and that Cassidy had tossed out the option for some occasional telecommute and work-from-home paper pushing and research if she decided she wanted it in the interim. Or more if the twins settled into enough of a routine that she had the time and option of actually taking him up on the offer - even if she wanted to.

Hank nodded. "She starting to get her ducks in a row for that?" he asked. "Can't likely pull too many strings for you two there right now, but …"

Jay shrugged. "She's starting to run through some of her connects, figuring out her options."

Got a smack. "And?"

Jay just shrugged again. Likely a conversation he should have with Erin. And if Erin wasn't saying much to Hank about it right now, it was because she didn't want his opinion. Or for him to be involved.

Probably a bit of both based on the conversation Jay and her had been having around it. Erin had her ideas about what she wanted to do. She thought that she might want to take what she'd learned – and the value she felt in what she'd done - in New York and try to get in with the Special Investigations Unit on the Internet Child Exploitation Team.

She'd already made some calls and put out some feelers to see what the possibility of her landing back on CPD and on that team might be. How far water was under the bridge from 18 months ago. Or how much heat might still be directed her way with the reform and internal audit still going on. Or worse – how much heat might be redirected to her in the fall out from Al, which was pretty much the fall out from Kevin Bingham. And questions didn't need to start being raised about Erin's role in any of that. Especially now.

But even outside of that, Jay just didn't know how he felt about her working day-in, day-out in that kind of team. He wasn't sure what it'd do to her. As a person. And now as a mother. He knew she'd likely be good at it. She had been good at when she'd dealt with that kind of case from an investigator's perspective in the DA's office over in New York. And he knew she'd excelled at cases with kids – just dealing with kids – on the job. And she had a strong skill set at the whole organizational and paperwork aspect of the job – the research needed before getting into the box with them and then the meticulousness in presenting the evidence and posing the questions to direct the interrogation to get the information she wanted and needed.

But at the same time – a case with a kid and a crime against a child – had also been what lead her to lose her cool in the box and had contributed to what it'd meant for her job with CPD and her relationship with him and her family and all kinds of other fallout they were still working through on their own. They were still rebounding from. And he knew why she'd lost her cool. Because it was personal. Because she'd been through shit as a kid and seen bad things happen to other people she knew and loved. That she'd been helpless in it and traumatized in it. That she'd seen things happen to Teddy – and what it'd done to the person he'd become. And she still had the fresh wound of what those kids had shot off into cyberspace of her baby brother and all the implications that was still having for Eth's development as a person and a man while trying to navigate high school and figure out relationships and deal with his health and physical appearance and disabilities that already had done a number on his self-image and self-worth and self-esteem.

Jay just wasn't sure that now when they had kids of their own doing that job sounded like a particularly awesome idea when it came to maintaining stability and sanity at home. And for Eli and Mattie.

But Erin's initial feelers had also been enough that the Staties had caught wind of it somehow. And she'd gotten a feeler call of her own about the Internet Crimes Unit. And maybe that'd be a better fit with her Intelligence background. And maybe it'd open up opportunities to work in things that didn't just involve diving into the Dark Web. But she'd also be based out of Des Plaines and Jay had pretty much zero interest in moving out that way and beyond zero interest in them trying to figure out a schedule – and him likely actually having to transfer out – to accommodate her making that commute in Chicago gridlock.

And he made him feel like an ass saying that to her.

He'd sort of hoped that she would just manage to land something in the Investigator's Office of the State Attorney. That'd been the original plan for all this. But the only plan that seemed to play out for them ever was planning on things not exactly working out the way they planned.

He might have to put some more work into accepting that it was her life and her career – and she had a choice in them. More choice and say than him. And that she was making a lot of sacrifices right now for them so they could be a family and raise their kids. So he might have to make some adjustments in his thoughts and attitudes about what she did with her career – and to help support their family – between now and when she went back to work. But he had his own baggage in all that too given how the last time she'd made a major career decision had worked out – and he hadn't been included in the discussion or decision at all. At least this time she was talking to him. And he got the sense she was hearing him. Just like he got the sense she wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do just yet.

More reason she likely wasn't talking to Hank about any of it. And more reason that Jay appreciated that she was keeping it their own family discussion so far and not adding him – and his opinions and rules – into the mix.

"She getting on Cassidy about greasing the wheels a bit over here?" Hank asked more directly. Over-bearing.

Jay just shrugged again, though. "New York telling anyone here what they should be doing is only going to hold so much water now that Stone crossed state-lines."

Hank shrugged right back at him. "Stone's nod will still carry weight."

Jay just shrugged at that too. Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn't. Also depended on what Erin wanted – and wanted to do.

"Be a good fit for her," Hank rasped, trying to act like he was just real interested in finishing hi meal. "Business hours while you two have to little guys at home. And still get her out from behind the desk. Run the street some."

"She's still figuring out her options," Jay muttered.

It got a smack. And Hank stared at him while he poked some more at his food.

"You need to be careful how you play all that," Hank said and Jay gave him a glance. It got a smack and a gesture. "Figuring out options. Running through them with her. You play it wrong, she'll end up resenting you some."

And Jay stared at him.

Hank smacked and shook his head, looked out the window for a long second. "Camille loved being a mom. Loved it – even when they were driving her nuts. But loved her job too. Made a lot of sacrifices in her career to be the caretaker in the family. For them. For me. Sometimes wish I hadn't let her do that so much. Or that I'd made a few more of my own sacrifices on that front so she hadn't felt like she was the one who had to. Backed her into a corner a bit in a way. Didn't resent the kids for it. Not at all. Loved them. All three of them. And don't think she necessarily resented me. But there were times she resented the job. Had a right to too."

Jay stared at him. "You took your detective's exams. Made rank. Got out of Patrol. Moved to Gangs."

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. "Mean I kept on moving up the ladder while she got stuck in the ruts with her gig. Having to give up a lot of research opportunities – trips, assignments – because it didn't work with my schedule. Maybe accrued some seniority after the kids were on the scene but wasn't exactly chasing the promotions."

Jay didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't sure it was entirely comparable. Or that society – and women in the workplace – was quiet the same as it was even fifteen years ago with Ethan or two and a half decades ago with Justin. But he also knew in a lot of ways it was. Especially for women on the job. And Erin wanted to move back into that world in some capacity. And now her just being a woman wasn't going to be treated like it made her some kind of liability – her having kids at home would make people treat her like she was a bigger hindrance at work than the kind of added bonus, powerhouse that she was on a team.

"Just …," Hank shrugged. "While she's figuring it out – and you're figuring it out – remember compromise."

And he kept Hank's eyes but didn't comment. Instead he eventually went back to putting the disgusting mess into his mouth. This wouldn't be some place he'd be suggesting to Erin as 'date night' material for old time sake. It clearly wasn't one of her favorite dives anyway. If it was they likely would've eaten here before.

He ignored Hank long enough the guy accepted he wasn't going to talk about the issue anymore. Wasn't his place. Handing out intel about the twins' health was one thing. Intel on Erin's career choices was another. He wasn't going to be his C.I. on this one. It'd have fall out for his and Erin's relationship and they were in a fairly decent place most days right now. Accept when they were tired – and exhausted – and the twins' didn't want to sleep and were cranky and they had about four loads of laundry to get through that night. But it seemed like a better set of things to be snippy at each other about than some of their previous arguments – or passive aggressiveness.

"Olive's planning on taking H out to one of the orchards this weekend," Hank finally said flatly. Jay gave him a glance. "Asked if me and E wanted to tag along. If you …" he made a vague gesture and put another forkful in his mouth. Those were Hank's kind of invitations. The non-invitation.

Jay looked at his plate and shrugged – since that really hadn't been an invitation. And if it had been an invitation, it likely would've been Olive issuing it. So she either didn't want them to come. Or she'd already talked to Erin about it and Erin so didn't want to go she hadn't even mentioned the invite at happened to him.

"You going …?" he asked.

Hank grunted. "Think so," he said. "E's going want to do a pie. Or crisp or something."

And Jay stopped chewing at the mention of pie – and Eth – in the same sentence and glanced at the date on his phone and looked at Hank.

"I mean, the days right now …," he offered in apology. With the babies and that schedule and routine, he'd barely registered that it was already October. He definitely hadn't registered that they were at Columbus Day and Justin's birthday. It wasn't a date that he really had any sort of vested interest in keeping track of. But maybe he should've.

Hank just made a dismissive sound. Like he didn't keep track of the days on the calendar either. "Just Magoo. Routines. Traditions …"

Pie for Justin's birthday. He'd been told more than once in the past two years that Justin Voight requested pie on his birthday. And now they apparently were obligated to not just buy and eat pie on that day – but to actually make it.

"I don't know if Olive wants us there," Jay tried. "This is the first time I'm hearing about it."

It got another grunt and dismissive sound. "Nah, I think she just is making me do monkey-in-the-middle. Guess Erin sort of bit her head off when she asked something about Halloween a week or so back. Whatever that means. The two of them …" He made a little pecking, squawking gesture with his one hand.

Jay stared at that. He wasn't exactly sure he agreed. But he'd allow that there'd been some moments since the babies arrived that Olive and Erin didn't see exactly eye-to-eye. Usually Olive was just trying to be … nice … in a very Olive way. But Erin just didn't necessarily have a whole lot of room for that these days. Especially if she felt it was coming across as her being told how to handle the babies or how to be a parent or a mom. From anyone. Not just from Olive. But she really seemed to take it badly whenever Olive said much of anything. There'd been some tense moments. But he guessed the two of them where just trying to figure out how their new dynamic and roles in the family worked too.

"Ah," Jay allowed, "I'll talk to Erin about it. I don't know. It'd be the first time we'd had them out in public that kind of way. And it's starting in on flu season …"

Hank almost hummed some sort of acknowledgement of that. But Jay also had gotten the sense – not just that day but many others – that Hank thought they were being overly cautious with the whole germ and cold and flu and virus thing. He wasn't sure if he should maybe take it as indication they actually were toeing the line of sanity - because Hank did know something about handling a kid who had a weakened immune system and how a flu to any other kid could land your kid in the hospital.

But Eth was a teenager now - Eli and Mattie were just infant. And so far, however people felt about their vigilance and it verging on germophoiba, they'd managed to protect the babies from getting sick. Jay'd prefer to try to get through their first year of life without dealing with anything too scary. Their first weeks in the hospital had been scary enough. He didn't really want to land back in there with either of them again any time soon. They were already into doctor's offices enough with regular appointments. And he figured they were playing Russian Roulette with EJ or Mattie getting infected with something enough by letting Eth and Henry near them – bringing in all sorts of disease from school and daycare. But keeping Eth and Henry at arm's length when they didn't present with a cold or flu was pretty politically incorrect and didn't do anything to help with the family dynamic – or their relationship with Olive.

"What one are you going to?" Jay asked to try to temper the situation – and the judgment in that hum a bit.

Hank shrugged. "Her plans. Go where she wants." He looked at Jay, though. "Know when me and Cami were taking Justin out to pick apples, you'd go, you'd park in a fucking field, and you'd hike out and pick a basket. That's all that'd be there. Maybe there'd be a fucking tracker to pull you out to the orchard if you were lucky or they'd let the kids jump around in the hay in the barn as you were headed back to the car. Nice, cheap family activity. Now it's like a fucking carnival. Fucking bouncy castles and corn mazes and pumpkin launchers and petting zoos and fucking nursery-time singalongs. She sends me the link to 'top three' choices. Because an apple orchard isn't just fucking rows of trees anymore. There's 'choice' to be made on this fucking epic family event. Charging epic prices to go along with it. Fucking seventeen bucks a pop plus parking."

"Doesn't sound like you want to go either," Jay provided.

He made a dismissive gestured. "Cider donuts," he muttered like that was all the reasoning he needed. Seeing how Hank seemed to know the ins-and-outs of where to get the good stuff in the city, maybe that said something too. "Those likely cost six bucks a pop now too. Better be worth the drive."

Jay allowed a smile at that. "Not sure the twins would take much out of it for us to be putting down that kind of cash. Not Rockefellers."

"Mmm …," Hank grunted, shaking his head with a mouthful of food. "Nah, didn't mean it that way. Your crew wants to come, I'm picking up the tab."

Jay nodded a little and looked back at his food. "I'll talk to Erin," he reaffirmed.

He could feel Hank still staring at him, though, and gave him another glance.

"Know how it is, Jay," he nodded at him. "We just had one our first go around. But Cami having to take the time off work and cop salary. Chicago," he made a gesture out at the street and stared out the window. They weren't exactly in an area that gave you a real sense of the cost of living in the city - but maybe an area that gave you a sense of what real life was like in the real Chicago. Or at least their kind of reality in Chicago. "You'll figure it out how to make it work. Still have the good times and the memories above and beyond roof over their heads and food on the table."

Jay nodded. "Yep. We're figuring it out …"

And they were. Things felt a little tight and hand-to-mouth some pay checks but it wasn't like they were floundering into bankruptcy. Jay knew some safety nets were there too - if/when Erin was willing to take them. And if/when he was willing to accept them too, because now taking any kind of money - even if it was life insurance money tagged as Erin's from the get - still sort of felt like he was admitting he wasn't able to support his family. But he might have to get over himself on that one. Though, hopefully that wouldn't be for a bit. They were doing okay for now. Considering.

"Besides, pretty sure grandparents are supposed to be helping you cover off some of this stuff. In my experience," Hank provided.

"Not exactly like you've got an ATM in the basement either, Hank," Jay muttered. He didn't have anything down there anymore as far as Jay knew. And even if he did – there were a lot of other expenses and considerations for Hank in his own life and responsibilities.

The guy shrugged, though. "Rather be paying for the occasional apple orchard trip or ballgame for the grandkids than be the one buying them PJ Masks and Pepa Pig figurines."

Jay let out a quiet amusement. "Then they likely won't be ending up with them, because I'm sure not spending my OT on that shit either."

Hank made a noise. "Say that now. Said that too, and I've got a teen-aged kid who must have a dinosaur collection worth at least five-Cs in his bedroom. And I'm telling you it's going to be worth about five cents to anyone that wants to buy it when he finally decides he's done with them."

"Eth's not ever going to decide he's done with them," Jay said.

Hank allowed a smile. Both knew that wasn't going to happen. Not now. If it was just a phase, it'd be over by now.

"Really planning on holding the kiddos in quarantine for All Hallow's Eve?" he asked.

"Ahh …," Jay managed. Maybe Erin really had 'bit Olive's head off' if that's the way it was getting phrased.

"Think I made sure you weren't slotted as on-call point that week," Hank said. "Figured you might be wanting to show them off to a few people."

Jay shrugged. "We haven't talked about it that much. But I think the plan was just basically that. Just drive over to a couple people's places. We weren't going to take them out in the stroller, if that's what Olive had been asking about. With Henry?"

Hank grumbled something – about Boo at the Zoo and costumes – that was near unintelligible. "Where you taking them around to?" was what managed to sound like an actual sentence.

Jay gestured at him. "Your place," he provided. "Assuming you're there."

Hank grunted again. "Yea, planning to be with H at the age, wanting to go up-and-down the block. Make sure E doesn't decide to go and get himself into some-kind of stupid either."

Jay nodded and cleared his throat a bit. "And, I don't know, I'm not involved but Erin has Platt doing something for the costumes. That I'm not supposed to know about. Or something." He had his guesses - or hopes - on what these costumes might be when he wasn't supposed to know what they were or that this was going on. But he was going to have to mostly just hope that Erin hadn't ordered up something stupid - like more elephants or peas in a pod or rolley pumpkins. But that wasn't really her style. Cutesy for cutesy's sake didn't fly with her. He wouldn't have thought Halloween would either. But apparently it was something they were doing. Or were obligated to do since they had babies. "So I guess we'll likely be popping into District or looping up to her and Mouch's place."

Hank grunted acknowledgement.

"And she's said something about stopping by Meredith's while we're out that way," he added cautiously.

Hank gazed at him. "They talking?"

Jay nodded with a little shrug. "Yea, still a bit. She's wanted to see them a few times. Has been over."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed. "Erin had only mentioned the once."

Jay shrugged. "Don't think she was too sure about the way you took it."

Hank grunted again. But it sounded more choked. But he finally managed to nod again. "It's good," he said. "Glad they're talking. That she's seeing them."

Jay nodded a bit. "I think she's close to being ready to see you, Hank. Asks about you and Eth every time. But I know how … " And he didn't know how to put it. But he knew that Hank knew what he meant. And had been there before in different ways with different people before.

But he just put down his fork and wiped at his mouth with the napkin, glancing for the waitress – and the bill. Him ready for this to be done now.

"Sure," he said. "When she's ready."

As ready as any of them ever could be in any of this. Or was ready as any of them could be when that door was finally allowed to be opened and they tested what it felt like inside.

"Should get back," Hank gravelled.

Jay nodded and reached for his wallet, though Hank had him beat to it, tossing some bills - and a nice tip - on the table.

Felt like they spent a lot of time trying to 'get back'. Didn't know what they were really trying to 'get back' to - even though he did. Just like he knew from experience that you never get to go back. Not to the place that was. And even if you physically managed to stand in a place you'd been before - it wasn't ever the same. Wasn't going to feel the same or be the same. It was never really 'back'.

So you needed to figure out a way to be in the now. And it seemed like sometimes - a lot of the time - that meant not looking back. Something that Jay knew for a fact that Hank had told Erin more than once in her life. For better or worse.

And maybe it was something Hank should consider taking his own advice on - if he wanted to be able to enjoy the now and keep looking toward the future. Maybe his convictions - and his gut - there was right. Going through life always looking over your shoulder just gave you a crick in the neck. And it left you missing where you were going. You had to trust that other's had your back - to be able to live and function in this world. This fucking life.

Hard to do. But seemed like it was worth it. To have someone's back and to let them have your's.

"I can do the derby," Jay offered as he pressed himself out of the booth.

Hank gave him a glance. "Yea. Think you've got a couple homers in you?"

Jay shrugged. "Sure, can have your back on that. As long as you two got me turning toward home to co-ordinate bath-time."

Hank made a little noise. There was a thin smile somewhere under it. And it got a nod. "Funny how things routines like that stick with you a lot more over the years than some one-hit wonder orchard."

"Little things," Jay allowed. Best feelings in the world, but left that unsaid. Because he didn't need to say it either.

He didn't. He knew he didn't because it got a grunt. "Enjoy it," Hank said.

And he was. He really, really fucking was - already.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **This was/is a continuation of the chapter/scene immediately prior to this. They were posted with less than 24 hours between them. Make sure you didn't miss it.**


	7. Perspective

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Erin watched Jay's slow trudge as he finally came up the stairs and into the main living area of the house.

She'd heard him come in. And she'd heard him – waited for him – as he took his time downstairs.

It'd become his routine when he got home from tour. Him silently coming in the door and sitting down on the entrance bench. Letting the seconds tick by before he took off his boots. More before he peeled off his coat. And more before he rose and hung it up on the rack.

Time to go into the half-bath down there. And it was rarely for a necessitated pit stop. Rarely did she hear the rush of the toilet flushing. Instead all she usually heard was the sink's faucets get twisted open and for the open water to stream heavily into the basin. And she he was just standing there – slumping against it – and staring into the mirror – at himself or beyond himself. Trying to look at himself and to see the man that she saw – and the man he needed to be, and wanted to be, at home with the babies. But some tours it took a lot of streaming water before he managed to see it. Most days she was sure it involved him throwing water at his face and trying to scrub away whatever had happened – whoever he'd had to be – on the job that day. Parts that he wanted to wash down the drain. To sterilize and sanitize himself – before he was near the twins. But it only ever worked so well – Erin only ever wanted it to work so well, because she loved – respected – all of him. And trying to wash that part of himself away at the end of the day was about as effective as pretending that time in the bathroom did anything about the never-abating five o'clock shadow that clung to his face.

And she knew he knew the time in the bathroom didn't really accomplish what he wanted – because when he finally came out of the stall, he'd pad into what would eventually likely be their family room or playroom – and no longer the private space for him to hide in for those long minutes when he got home from tour. That he'd turn on the TV down there - and quickly mute it like he didn't want them to hear him down there - and stare even more blankly at the night's scores scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

That he near always took those several more minutes to decompress before stepping into home-life and family-life. That the drive from District to the house wasn't enough for him – and it likely shouldn't be. She knew that. Barely a mile drive in a take-home vehicle wasn't exactly enough to get your head on straight some days.

But it'd been clear he needed to give himself some extra time and space to try to leave work at work after he got inside the door and he had to be something different - he thought. Sometimes Erin wasn't sure she agreed. A cop was part of who he was. It was a part of the man she loved. And it was part of the man she'd picked to father her kids. It was part of who'd – how'd – he be as a father. He didn't need to be something different. He didn't need – he shouldn't be – building that kind of wall up around him. Around them and their kids. Just hiding himself from them in a different way. Even, though, Erin understood the necessity of being different when you were home. When you were with your kids. You couldn't be "a cop". You had to be "mom" or "dad". A mother or a father. A parent. A 'spouse'. And life partner. But she wasn't sure they'd be able to truly do that if they were building up new and different walls around them in creating some sort of family fortress. An alternate reality when their reality was challenging enough. When she didn't want them to ignore their realities – or who they were or how they were.

She wanted Jay. And she wanted their kids to know Jay – as Jay. As moody and dark and distracted as he could be – because even though that was a part of him, it also was part of what made him work to bring out all those … good, better … aspects of himself. The ones that made him … a good friend, a good partner. That were making him strive to be a good dad.

Even though it demanded a different kind of presence. And even though she knew that it was a presence that could be a struggle after some tours, some cases.

At least she knew why. She understood why. Since she had done the job too. She knew what it was like. She knew that some tours you just didn't shut the Barn doors even when you left the building. She knew that some cases just never closed – and it was hard to step away from them when they were still sitting there on your desk open. But it was sometimes still a struggle for her to let him take those five … ten … fifteen … twenty … minutes when he got home to be downstairs and alone before he came up to where she and the twins were.

She'd learned – forced herself – to let him take the time. It was never too long – in the grand scheme of things. Though sometimes it felt like the minutes were ticking by at a snail's pace. Sometimes she just wanted him to come upstairs and take over with the twins so she could get her own decompression time of a different kind than what you needed after being on tour. But there were definitely days – nights – where she was ready to shove the babies at him, no matter what he was walking in from, and remove herself from the situation for her own twenty or thirty minutes. Or more.

Still, when Jay was downstairs and it got closer and closer to the 10-minute mark – if it moved passed it – she was left upstairs just waiting to see what kind of cloud was going to be hanging over him when he did come up.

And she worried about what it'd be like when the twins were mobile and talking and wanting to run to daddy as soon as he got in the door – or they were down in his decompression space when he did get home.

She'd had to train herself – restrain herself – to keep from calling out a greeting to him when he did get home. Because it hurt even he didn't reply. And sometimes he didn't. Because his head and heart and body hadn't all caught up to be in the same place yet. It wasn't that he was ignoring her – them. It often really was he just really hadn't arrived yet –so he just really hadn't heard her. And that was something she was still working at adjusting to and accepting to.

And it was something she didn't know how she'd train – or explain – to toddlers. How she'd get little kids to understand about giving their dad some space when he got home from work. She didn't know how that would work. Even though she sort of did.

Erin had seen how it'd worked – and not worked – in Hank and Camille's marriage and their family life. But Hank had approached it in a different way. He just didn't come home until he'd decompressed enough after a tour. And Erin knew it caused fights between him and Camille on both sides of it. That there wasn't any winning.

That some nights she'd get frustrated at his distraction – at him still having his head in the job – and there'd be an escalating blow up until Camille was telling him to not bother coming home until he was actually going to be home. It was the ending statement of their sparring match – like some kind of agreed on breaking point and action point. Where the verbal back-and-forth between them would stop and there'd be Hank's heavy steps out the back door and down the porch and he'd be gone for another hour or two – or longer. Back to work and where his head still was. The shorter absences he'd come back smelling like the Social Club but would be more even tempered and present when he did get home. And him and Camille would act like it was water under the bridge.

But then there were the other times where his shift should've been over and hours and hours passed before he appeared. And there'd be more arguments about that. About a different kind of presence – or lack thereof.

And you could just tell what kind of tour it'd been. If Hank was frustrated – it spilled over. The strictness – rules and regulations – spilled over nearly as soon as he got in the door. You had better have the chores done and homework well on the go. To not have your feet on the coffee table or have left any sort of sweater draped across a chair or a dirty glass in the front room or used dishes sitting on the kitchen counter. Camille – or your teachers – better not have some note or story sitting there waiting for him.

And then there were the other cases – tours – the ones that get to you and stay with you. The ones where he'd walk through the house seeking them all out – without a word – and bestow some kind of small physical affection on him. Those tugs at the air and kisses on the crown of your head and rough grips at your shoulder. Until he either ended up taking over making dinner for them – for Camille – with her sitting in the kitchen talking at him about … whatever they talked about. Erin sometimes wished she'd paid more attention to that. That she understood more about what to talk about in those moments – after shifts like that, when you couldn't talk about the case then … or ever. And, if he wasn't out with Camille, then he was sitting in the dining with her or Justin watching them do their homework. Or claiming his spot on the couch – and if you were the one having to vacate it – he wouldn't let you go too far, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to keep you close while he claimed the remote to stare at the muted Hawks scores, not so unlike what Jay did now.

And that more than some nights like that in the Voight house she was always happy that a CD player and headphones had been one of the early major luxuries she'd received as a gift in that house with paper-thin walls and a bedroom abutting Hank and Camille's master.

So Erin maybe knew how all this worked. Maybe she should've known how all this worked. But it hadn't made it any less of an adjustment. To be on this side of it. To not ask him about his day as soon as he got upstairs. To accept if he wanted to talk about it – or had something he could talk about within it at all – he'd broach it himself. Eventually. Sometimes.

But not asking – automatically – was hard. She usually had to restrain herself. Still.

Usually she wanted to talk about anything but her day – because her day was pretty boring and monotonous and repetitive. She never had much to say. You could only say so much about pooping and spit-up and laundry and staring at, and trying to play with, infants. For every little moment that was a 'wow' there were about a million others that weren't worth mentioning.

And she got the necessity of being there.

The necessity on a whole lot of levels. Financially and for their development and for their health – because they were babies and they were hers. Because they needed her. Because they deserved a babyhood where they were being loved and cared for. Because they were still so little and fragile – and there were still moments and days that she got scared and worried about all the unknowns in their future. Because she knew that all of this was time-limited – her time getting to be with them in this way and her time in having them this little. And she knew that every day and week and month and year would bring change – that'd happen to fast. And that the change could even come in an instance that they didn't see coming and would turn them on their heads – so she needed to take advantage of the now, while she was able, even if a lot of it was just necessary routine.

That's not to say there wasn't parts of it she liked. There were. She liked that she wasn't missing those little 'wow' moments. And there were definitely wow moments in watching these little humans you created discover the world around them and grow and change so much – in so little time. There was something to be said about holding and cuddling and smelling and feeling the heartbeats and the breathing and the skin-to-skin warmth of these people who were this huge piece of you. To see –and feel – the changes and calm just being together brought to both your bodies and being. And what a strange revelation that was.

But there was also a lot of ways – she hated admitting, because it made her feel like she was doing it wrong as a mother, that she wasn't actually feeling it all right or she wasn't connecting with the babies in the right way the way other mother's did – that she was just bored. That she felt cabin-fever and restless and just fucking stir-crazy. Trapped – in a situation of her own making.

And she didn't mean it 'that' way.

She just meant … with twins – infant, preemie twins – you were stuck in so many ways. More than she'd really been prepared for. You just don't understand until they're there and you're trying to do … anything.

Even doing an errand was hard when you had to tote around two babies. To deal with a stroller or a cart – or even where the hell to put the grocery items and toiletries you were trying to pick up when your babies and gear took up the entire collection basket.

And then there was the germs – made worse by all the people who wanted to get into your babies' faces and poke at them and ask you invasive and ridiculous questions like 'are they twins?', 'are they identical?', 'they're so small, are they preemies?', 'oh, how early were you?', 'how old are they?'. And assumptive statements that alluded to the fact that they 'so many people have to use IVF anymore', 'you just see twins so often these days'. And those forced – unwanted – interactions must made her want to attempt even getting out of the house even less. It just made all of it seem like that much bigger chore.

Sometimes she felt like she was counting down some imaginary timeline about getting back to work.

And there wasn't even a timeline – because it was at the point it'd be her decision on when and how she went back.

She was already off the job longer than she'd intended to be. But she hadn't planned on having her babies nearly seven weeks early and to still be dealing with on-going follow-up and medical care like she was. They were.

So now … she didn't know when she'd go back. Or in what capacity. Or to what job.

She'd told herself a year. A year to take care of them and get them on track. A year they could manage on Jay's salary and benefits. That a year was do-able – work-able – for all of them. She could do a year at home. Being a stay-at-home mom. She kept telling herself that. It was only a year.

But as much as she was counting down there was also this dread too – about going back and leaving them. And missing those 'wows' that she already had to text so many to Jay.

And what would happen then?

They'd have some daycare worker (that they hadn't found yet and she still was wrapping her head around how they'd afford – how it felt like it'd almost be like she was working just to pay for that for the first while) telling them both about their kids. Them knowing more – seeing more – than her or Jay would.

And what that would do to Eli and Mattie too – being left alone in one of those places. No matter how nice of one – with two slots that was willing to take twin, premature babies – they got them in.

And she had Hank's repeated advice about if she was going to stick with law enforcement in some capacity now. That you needed to watch for supervisors – for C.O.s – you knew valued their family at least as much as they valued the job. Find commanding officers who understood family and wanted to spend time with your family – because they'd be making sure you were getting home to yours too. And she heard him. She was feeling what he meant more and more.

And it was a hard thing to accept to. Because she also knew that work-life balance – work-family life balance – with the job was hard. You're never going to have a normal schedule. You're always going to be missing something – big and little. There isn't going to be stability. And she'd thought she could manage that – or figure out a way to manage that – because she loved the job too. She saw value in that work. But right now she was struggling to find something that might be a fit. You couldn't have it both ways. And she didn't have a lot of options to begin with.

She found herself wishing that she had more female friends – colleagues – on the job who actually were raising a family. But instead she felt like she was the one trying to blaze a trail among the women she was surrounded by in first responder careers. And she sometimes felt like she was going to flame out in some sort of spectacular mess – and stereotype. Or just reality.

The reality of women on the job. That most of the potential mentors she could try to reach out to were just going to be stories of failed relationships. And a lot of people who'd hadn't had a family because of that. Or the ones who'd framed it all as the job being more important to them than ever having a family. Or the other reality – that a lot of women left the job after having kids.

And as much as Erin had said that wouldn't be her – that she'd tried not to be judgmental while internally judging them – she understood more. There were different layers and emotions to it after you held your kids in your arms – and you knew what the work schedule of the job was and what it did to you as a person.

And those were the kinds of things she found herself thinking about and stressing about and pining for in the long and endless hours of feedings and diaper changes and spending way too fucking long just going to pick up milk and coffee.

It made her want to think about – talk about – something else that much more. Usually the moment Jay walked in the door and up the stairs. But she restrained herself.

It made her feel like she was becoming one of those law enforcement spouses. The one that 'read his moods'. And gave him time and space. And preached like she understood and respected his need for that. Like that made her some sort of dutiful wife – that she wasn't.

But she really did understand. She kept reminding herself of that. On repeat – when she felt her frustration rise at the whole situation. The situation she'd chosen. That they'd both chosen. And she'd gone into with her eyes wide open. Although, maybe not quite as wide as she thought.

And living in this opposite side and perspective of the job wasn't one that she was loving.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **The previous two chapters (A BITE and WIFFLE) were posted in less than 24 hours. So there wasn't a bump on them. Reader stats suggest a lot of people missed WIFFLE. Check it out.**

 **I have a few chapters written. But I will be posting them with at least 24 hours between them, because people seem to miss stuff if I don't.**

 **This is a split scene. The second half will still be Erin's POV and will be more dialogue driven.**

 **The one after that (which actually takes place before in terms of how long it'd be after the birth, but there is not sequence in this really), will be shorter and lighter (despite a serious discussion) and very dialogue heavy.**

 **Your readership, reviews and feedback are appreciated. And motivating.**


	8. Figure It Out

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Jay was still working at pulling off his layered hoodie as he emerged onto the main level. He was finding Erin was keeping the townhouse a little warm, which was true, but they were starting to see temperature dips and she still worried about how the twins' little bodies were regulating temperature. And, besides, they weren't the only ones she had to worry about that afternoon. Ethan was passed out on the opposite side of the couch – and he was always cold.

Jay let out a little groan as he got up there, draping the hoodie over one of the stools at the counter.

"Hey …," Erin greeted carefully. She was still weighing his body language, getting a gauge on his mood. But she thought they were in for an okay night. He was tired – but there wasn't a cloud hanging over him. She could feel some minor agigation and frustration coming off him – but it felt like his usual. And his usual, he usually calmed from within the first hour home and she – they: her, Eli and Mattie – had him – the real him – again.

He made another little noise – betraying that he was still working at setting down whatever had him annoyed from the hour. But he stopped himself as it came out of throat.

"Hey …," he allowed flatly instead.

And then he trudged over to where she was on the couch and let himself sink to the floor, leaning back against it, staring at the babies sleeping in their bouncers on the floor in front of them.

She reached and ran her fingers through his hair a few times, running her nails down to his scalp. It earned another quite noise – a calmer one.

"Did you eat?" she asked.

It got another mangled sound and his head lulled back to gaze up at her in the quiet question of what was around – though not answering if he'd eaten. He probably hadn't – or not well. He wasn't doing great about that lately. And it likely wasn't helping with fatigue or moods. Something he knew on his own – so she hadn't said anything. She wasn't exactly the best person to be nagging about nutrition. But he also didn't seem to be doing much to improve the situation on his own yet.

It was hard. For him too. She wasn't much of a cook and often didn't feel like – or have the time and the two hands available – to be making meals. Doing that felt just a bit too much like a housewife for her anyway. And, even if she felt like she had to do it, they went through days where they were just short on groceries. Either because they were at the end of a grocery run or they were waiting on the next pay period to stock up on anything that wasn't diapers, wipes, formula and laundry detergent. And if there was money in the bank for things like chicken and ground beef and eggs and milk and potatoes – it still meant that one of them had to be going to the grocery store to get it. Doing that on her own with the babies was just a long and complicated adventure. And sometimes by the time Jay was getting off shift, unless it was something particularly pressing and that he wanted in the house too – like coffee – he often put it off until the next day. And some times the next. Because he was tired and just wanted to get home too. And didn't want to get home to only then having to cook dinner with the ingredients he'd just picked up.

So the lack of dinners being made meant there were a lack of leftovers in the fridge for lunches. And that meant beyond coffee, breakfast cereal, toast and whatever crap he was ingesting on the job (which he wasn't because they were doing quite a bit of penny pinching and he balked at spending cash to eat out right now – especially if it was just for him) – he wasn't eating much. Or well. Or properly.

It was another on the list she was still adjusting to. Being the one mostly responsible for meal prep – and handling it when there were other human beings needing her attention in that moment. Ones that she couldn't hand an apple to – or tell them they knew where the kitchen was and to handle it themselves.

"Spaghetti, meat sauce," she provided.

Simple. Easy. No fuss. And easy to throw together that particular night since she did have Eth and it was added pressure – or motivation – to force herself to act like she knew how to feed a family. And like she had any sort of interest in that becoming a growing part of her new job description and title in the family.

But Jay seemed about as enthused as Ethan had been when she'd put that in front of him as the menu's one-and-only option. He made another little sound and went back to looking at the twins.

He reached out to touch at EJ's little leg and grip at his foot and Erin sighed a little and scruffed at Jay's hair a little more roughly.

"Jay, please don't wake them," she near begged.

It was yet another hard part to all of this. That sometimes with Jay's schedule – and Hank's love of his supervisor's prerogative for plus-or-minus two-to-three at either end of the shift for flag and city. A seven-thirty roll call that turned their scheduled 8.5 tours into pretty permanent marches closer to the 10 or 11 hours most days. Combined with cases that had them pulling overnight surveillance, black-out Ops and UC – there were a lot of workdays were Jay wasn't getting to see much of the babies.

Not the little day-in, day-out stuff. Just them screaming in the night for a bottle or a diaper change. He'd be headed into District when they barely got through their first feed of the day and when he got home they'd often be sleeping again. If her and the twins were having a good day where everyone was co-operating.

It wasn't ideal. But they'd never said the whole circumstance they'd found themselves in when she'd found out she was pregnant was. They didn't really exist in any kind of ideal. Ever – as long as she'd known him.

But Jay not being home and not getting to see the babies was harder still when she could see how his mood and personality changed and lifted when he did get time with the twin. When he got to hold them and be the one putting them to sleep. When he got home closer to dinner than tonight and he did get to help with bath-time and getting them into pajamas and already starting into the habit of reading to them until they drifted off. When he got to play with them – as much as they played – and stare at them while they stared right back and smiled and giggled at him. And watch how the two of them interacted. How they'd babble at each other. How EJ was always reaching out to find his sister and how Mattie pretty much made it a priority to ensure she rolled over and teethed and slobbered on her brother's forehead, elbow or foot near daily.

Erin could see how time with the kids calmed him and stabilized him. She could feel the positive changes it was making in him – and for him – despite how fucking hard adjusting to all this was and finding some kind of routine and schedule in all of it. So it made her hate the schedule they were still trying to figure out how to operating in as parents even more – some days.

Jay made a small noise again at her request and rotated his head a bit to first stare at the TV that she on so slow. And to cast her a look and a smile about The Walking Dead being up there – a long, long, long ago episode before it was shit – but Ethan sleeping right through it. After years and years of him begging for his dad to loosen the screen-rules and the parental controls and block-outs on all the electronics at him – to finally be allowed to watch (now that it was crap) and to not keep his eyes open to do so.

She shared the thin smile with him at that reality. And the predictability of it. But the truth was Ethan wasn't missing much. And hadn't over the course of the series.

"How far behind you is Hank?" she asked. Because she should still likely turn it off before he appeared. Because she really hoped he'd arrive soon – so they could get on with the bit of routine they did have on any night. As much as that was possible. Especially at this point. It was late.

Jay lulled his head on the edge of the couch cushion gazing at her a bit more. "He said twenty," he provided. "But he was finishing up paperwork. You know how he is with dotting I's and crossing T's right now."

Erin made her own sound of acknowledgement. "So more like one-twenty," she muttered.

Jay allowed a small sound of agreement at that estimate and rotated his head back down to look at the babies. They weren't even stirring. They hadn't sensed that Daddy was home. And if their stomach clocks were going to go off. They might be running a little late. She was pretty sure their schedule (such as it was) had been thrown slightly off whack that day.

"How'd today go?" he asked, with a nod at Ethan slumped under the covers and seemingly even more dead-to-the-world than the babies. He hadn't so much as stirred either. And he'd been passed out longer than the twins too.

"Well, Eth is a pretty awesome cart pusher and stroller wrangler – hence the groceries that made the wonderful meal you seem utterly disinterested in," she put to him.

And it got a smile out of him, gazing up at her with those eyes dancing. The ones that were so strange and different to see looking at her now when the same ones did just that to her from Mattie too.

"The hospital," he drolled at her.

"Oh, that …," she put back to him and shared the little smile and pressed at his pressed up bangs and smooth forehead. "The usual," she allowed. "He started having the flu-like symptoms. Then the allergic reaction. So they pumped the IV Benadryl into his line. And he's pretty much been a zombie since then."

"Hence the zombie viewing," he said and gestured at the babies. "Very age appropriate."

She shrugged. "I wouldn't exactly say any of them are watching it."

He grinned softly and gazed some more at the twins, fidgeting now with the leg of Eli's bouncer, making it rock just a little bit more.

"How'd they do?" he asked.

She exhaled a bit. "It's pretty much one of the most sterile and quarantined areas of the hospital, Jay," she said – because they'd already had this back-and-forth debate.

About the twins' health and immune systems and germs and already spending so much time in the hospital and doctor's offices. And it being into cold and flu season. About whether they – she – could help with getting Ethan to some of his appointments right now. Whether she could be there for her little brother in that way. And support Hank – and the family – that way. Or if it just didn't make sense. And she had to tell Hank that and explain it to Ethan in a way he could understand and accept – and not feel like she was letting him down again. To not make a sick, struggling kid - that she was still working to repair her relationship with – feel like now he was forever going to be second-fiddle to the twins. For him – and her – to feel even more like they were trying to rediscover and redefine their relationship when it already was never going to be the same as it was.

"I know," he met her eyes – because she'd put forward enough of an argument in their discussion that she'd 'won' that round. Or he'd relented and allowed her to do what she wanted – what she thought was best – because the reality was she was the one who was doing the heavy-lifting in terms of baby-care right now. So it something did happen – if they did catch something – it'd be her at home dealing with the runny noses and fevers. "But how did they do?"

She sighed a little and fiddled with his hair a moment. "They were good. But it stressed them out. They both really started to shut down. EJ got really tense."

And it'd been a long, long treatment of her trying to manage Ethan and the babies in that. She probably wouldn't be stepping up to do it again. But she wasn't going to say that right now. Give Jay any kind of fodder about him being 'right' in that circumstance.

But he nodded, and that time did reach for Eli's foot and worked at feeling his little toes through his pajamas.

"They can smell it," he muttered. "Doctors. Hospitals. It's going to be part of their whole physiology now."

"Fantastic," Erin muttered and stared at the babies too. "Infants with PTSD."

His head leaned back and gazed up at her again. "They're okay," he assured.

She allowed a sound of acknowledgement – even though his previous statement didn't support that they'd be okay at all.

"They've both been really fussy since we got home," she said. "Had themselves worked up. Exhausted themselves. If they aren't up soon, it'll be interesting to see how many hours they sleep through."

"They might wake up when we move them," he offered.

Erin shrugged a bit. "Maybe," she allowed. But she hoped if that happened, they'd just take a bottle and drift back off at that point. Because she was feeling ready to drift off a bit too.

"So I didn't miss anything good today?" he asked.

Erin rubbed her thumb down his forehead and starred over at Mattie. "I'm pretty convinced our daughter has no intentions of ever getting on knees."

Jay made a mildly amused sound and twisted again to look up at her. "I'd think you'd be supportive of that."

"Sure," Erin allowed. "But it'd be nice if she could not pull every cushion on the couch onto her and her brother in the process of jumping over the whole crawling phase."

He smiled more. "What was she doing?"

"Army crawl," she nodded.

"So she doesn't like her ass in the air," he said. "We should probably be okay with that too."

Erin shook her head at him, giving him a look. "That's awful."

"What," he teased and reached to squeeze at her thigh and to give it a little shake.

"She's your daughter," Erin put at him pointedly.

Jay just cocked his head at her. "And you're the one with your mind in the gutter. Army crawl. Stay low," he said. "That's what they teach you. Keep out of sight lines. Including mom's."

"They were on their play pads," Erin muttered. She'd literally just walked to the kitchen, filled a bottle of water and turned back around to the scene. "Managed to get over to here," she gestured at next to where he was sitting. "And working at trying to grab and pull herself up."

"Not strong enough for that yet?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure she's strong enough for that," Erin said. "It was more her choice of chin-up bars."

Jay made a sound of acknowledgement and leaned forward to adjust Mattie's chair just a bit, so he could stare at her more intently. "Flaw in the form and function logic there."

"Just until she figures out to try this maneuver out on one of the tables," Erin said. "Then we're likely done."

Jay smiled even more at that and looked back over to the twins again.

"She's going to skip crawling," Erin said staring at their little girl and then nudged a little at Ethan with her foot.

He still didn't budge. The drugs had him out. They likely should just call Hank at this point and tell him to let Eth sleep it off on the sofa. But Hank would want to see his son after the plasma exchange. He'd already been checking in with her in a steady stream of texts and few-word phone calls all afternoon. So she knew he'd show up no matter how late – and that if he couldn't get Ethan awake and upright that Hank would either end up sleeping sitting up where she was right now – or he'd still haul up his fifteen-year-old kid and carry him to the car to get him home and to his own bed if he had to. That was Hank – everyone gets home tonight.

"This one nearly skipped crawling too," Erin said.

Jay turned and gazed at Eth for a long second. "Nature or nurture?" he posed. It was another conversation they had on repeat in the long hours they spent staring at their kids and watching them first fight to survive and now grow and thrive.

Erin just shrugged that night, though. "I'm starting to think maybe it's a preemie thing," she mused and looked at her little brother. She thought he had a lot of the stubborn fight for survival and insistency on defying expectations that she felt like they were already seeing in their babies too. "After being stuck in those incubators with all those wires. They don't want to risk staying still long enough to get tied down again."

"Maybe …," Jay allowed and reached and ran his finger along the sole of Mattie's feet. She felt it in her sleep and jerked it away, little toes curling, stirring slightly before she settled again. But she stirred enough for Erin to give Jay's shoulder a firm nudge with her knee. If he was going to wake them, he better be ready to be the one dealing with them on the first wave.

He just gave her a watery smile. It was apologetic – but longing. She could tell he wished he were awake and he was getting some time with them in his arms. That he'd like it even more if they were awake and he could chat and babble and tease and play with them. Erin had heard Jay have more than a few full-fledged conversations with the twins – him acting like every little sound they made was a coherent reply to what he'd just said to them.

And Erin wished too that he got more time like that – more often. That he wasn't on a six and two rotation. That he wasn't out of the house for nearly twelve hours at a time. That he wasn't on-call 24/7 – but that wasn't their lives and it wasn't the job.

"Right now she's just managing to dislodge the cushion," she said rather than reminding him of that. And rather than granting him permission to wake them just yet.

"And working at smothering her brother?" Jay suggested. Erin rolled her eyes. "He got over here too?"

"Mmm …," Erin allowed. Eli might always be a little behind Mattie – but never far. "Rolling is a much faster method of transportation than even a belly crawl. They should teach that in the army."

Jay smiled and stared at them some more. "Guess it's time to drag out the gates again," he said of the battered used ones they'd picked up to try to block off Henry previously.

"I think we're going to need to get a playpen," she said.

He nodded but was still looking at the babies and playing with Eli's one leg. She knew why. It was the one that seemed to be the reason he'd adapted to rolling as his current transportation method. EJ couldn't seem to figure out how to get it under him and moving even for a belly crawl like Mattie was doing. It just seemed more rigid – both his legs did – but this one arced at a differently in the way he held it. Especially how he held his foot. It reminded her of Ethan's foot droop – but his spasticity was different than the way it felt in Eli. But Eli was just a baby.

But that was a discussion that they kept for nights where they weren't as tired – if those existed. And ones they usually both shut down before they let themselves get to after into it.

Because they were still waiting it out. They were still not making assumptions. Or going worst-case scenario – especially with a scenario that had such a spectrum of possibilities.

And even when they let themselves go there – one or both of them always ended up reassuring the other – that RIC had pediatric programs. That they'd seen what the facilities had and how they treated patients. They knew doctors there. They already had connections there. That they'd be covered there – to some extent. That they knew how to get referred there and into the programming and treatment and facilities. That they'd seen all the good it'd done for Eth.

And even more – that it might not be anything. That the doctors weren't giving a label yet – that they refused to. Even though there'd been things – conditions - they'd been talking around rather.

But the doctors always went back to the fact that he was a preemie. He was born at a bigger deficit than Mattie. That his oxygen and blood flow had meant he was growing and developing at a different rate – and he might still get there and everything might still be normal. Because he was already defying expectations and cruising to keep up with his sister as best he could.

Jay hated the song-and-dance they were having with the doctors, though. The monitoring but the lack of definitive answer. The watchful waiting of all of this. He wanted to get in front of things. It was in his nature. It was who he was. And if there were things they could be doing now – he wanted to be doing them now.

And Erin understood that – but she also knew the danger of giving a child a label. For a kid having to grow up with a label. And she didn't want that for Eli if it wasn't necessary. If he still caught up.

It could happen. She had hope it would. She'd seen how far he – both Eli and Mattie – had come already. They were fighters and survivors. She trusted they had this. All four of them.

"Didn't someone shower us with one of those?" Jay asked of the playpen – that Erin already knew the twins would hate being confined to.

"I don't think so …," Erin said.

"I'll check the garage," he muttered. "Later."

"Olive might still have Henry's," Erin offered. "I'll ask."

Jay nodded and worked at piling some little blocks that'd tumbled in a mess next to the couch too. The whole living space looked like a tumbled mess. After the three kids had fallen asleep she hadn't managed to peel herself off the couch to try to do anything that resembling tidying. The kitchen was still a mess of dirty dishes from dinner too. But it'd been a long day.

"She's just going to knock those down on her as soon as she's awake and out of that chair," Erin said. She'd already been doing that with Ethan for part of the night.

He grinned. "I know," he said. She thought he liked that game even more than Mattie. And she was pretty sure Mattie thought it was a great game. That Daddy was building towers specifically for her to try to reach and knock over. And she kept rising to the challenge lately.

He worked away at using every block that was within easy reach. And she let him. Just sitting and watching – in the quiet – with her family.

When he finished, he pressed himself up from the floor, her hand catching his as he stood and him keeping a hold of her curled fingers until they extended enough to fall apart as he moved toward the kitchen.

"You mind if I have a beer?" he mumbled at her.

"Did you eat?" she put to him more firmly.

He just gave her a glance as he pulled open the fridge door. "You want one?" he asked.

But she shook her head and watched as he grabbed a bottle – and the plate she'd put in there made for him – and moved them to the counter. The plate got popped into the microwave and the cap got popped off the bottle. And he stood there swigging slowly at it while waiting for the pasta to warm up.

She could see him staring at Ethan's homework on the countertop. He was fingering at the edges of The Catcher in the Rye, and she could tell reading the first page of the book report that had been left there. She'd read over it for him too and marked up a few typos she'd spotted – but book reports, and anything to do with high school, wasn't really her thing. And, it probably wouldn't really matter what she said about it – Hank would be reading over it with a red pen when he finally picked him up too. And him and Eth would likely have a stand-off in the morning as he tried to plough the kid through any kind of corrections or clarifications that he thought should be made.

"I hated Holden," Jay said from over there, giving her a glance from the reading.

"He wasn't enough of an anti-authority, loner with violent tendencies for you?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you like this book?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure I read anything assigned in high school while I was actually in high school."

"He sounds a bit like he wants to write like Salinger," Jay said, going back to reading.

"That's impressive considering Ethan's ability at stringing together a written sentence that remotely reads like it's in the English language," she muttered.

Jay looked over at that. "Did you help him?" he asked.

She shook her head and looked at her sleeping brother. "Proofread it after I stopped him from screwing around any more with it when they drugged him. So it wasn't more incoherent than it already is."

"It's actually pretty good," Jay said. "It's going to tell the teacher a whole lot about him."

Erin allowed a nod. "Well, Eth definitely has enough real life experience to have opinions about what defines childhood and adulthood – and where he and Holden fit into it."

"So a Cauldfield fan?" Jay asked, flipping to the next page.

"I got the impression he thought Holden was a whiney, spoiled brat who didn't have a firm grip on reality or what life as an adult or child actually looked like."

Jay made an amused sound. "Those his words or Voight's?"

"Hank's would've been: 'Life's not fair. This jagoff's only learning that now'," she graveled on his behalf.

Jay grinned a bit and shook his head to look down at the paper again. "It will be interesting to see what the teacher thinks of this masterpiece," he said. "Think no matter what the grade, it should likely end up on the fridge."

Erin made a little sound at the mention of the fridge and worked to pull her phone out of her pocket. "Babe," she called at him. "Bring the Op Calendar over when you come."

He made a little sound of acknowledgement but was still staring at the essay. He reached to grab the pen she'd left next to it and circled something on the page. "Is he still working on it?"

"It's due tomorrow," she said.

He glanced at her. "So when is he turning it in?"

"Tomorrow," she stressed at him.

Jay made a sound and shook his head, scribbling something else on the page.

"What?" she pressed at him.

"Why go to through all the bullshit of pushing for the added 504 Plan shit and the co-op equivalency credits, if …" he gestured at Eth's crumpled body "… and it's still due tomorrow."

Erin kept eyes with him across the room. "Because he doesn't get to use …" and she gestured at Ethan too "… as an excuse."

"Pretty sure having your blood plasma exchanged counts as a _reason_ to get an assignment extension – not an excuse. Especially on a 504."

Erin sighed at him. "He almost has it done – on time. It wasn't a huge battle to get this book read and the essay written. Hank's just trying to keep up the momentum they have going this year."

"Is he even going in tomorrow?" Jay muttered, turning away at the beeping of the microwave to get his plate.

Erin shrugged. "I don't know. I doubt it. But, I know if it's done – Hank will take it in to shut up the admin."

Jay made a sound of acknowledgment, grabbing some cutlery and pulling the requested calendar off the fridge between two fingers that were already clutching a beer.

"What are you checking?" he asked, as he dropped it onto her chest as she stared at her phone, and then settled back down on the floor next to her and with the babies.

"Ah …," she said, glancing between the paper and her phone as she oriented herself and the dates. "Hank pinged me to let me know he's the sector sergeant on Thanksgiving."

Jay made a sound of acknowledgement and nodded. "Thanksgiving can't come soon enough. You see that," he nodded at her stare on the calendar. "Thanksgiving and the Friday off – and the following weekend is our D.O.G.'s off."

Hummed some of her own acknowledgement, as she looked ahead – again. They'd already been over the Ops Calendar before to get a grip on the predicted rotations and where Intelligence's groupings landed them with D.O.G.s. They were technically going to be in the clear with him on Christmas Day and New Year's Day that year – which was a bit of a relief.

"Telling you," Jay mumbled between shoveling the food he'd previously showed little interest in into his mouth, "more reason not to transfer. 21st detectives slotted as Group 2. It's a good slot."

He state that a lot. It sort of annoyed her. Like he was trying to convince her that things weren't as bad as they could be. Which was true. But it wasn't like they'd exactly figured out how to manage this schedule and routine yet. Or that this was going to be sustainable after she was back to work too – and they needed daycare (or night and weekend care) for the twins.

She knew part of the reason he said it was out of his own guilt. Like he was trying to convince himself too. And it wasn't that she wanted him to feel guilty about the job – or the schedule that came with the job – but she appreciated that it meant he was at least acknowledging in some backward way that they still had stuff to sort out. And their time period to get it sorted was ticking closer to an end. The first six months had disappeared insanely slowly and entirely too fast already.

"This year," she said of his slot talk. That didn't mean much as the rotation shifted and slid in their divvied up periods. "Has Hank assigned on-calls yet for the holidays?" she asked.

It was a bit of a joke. More of what the job meant. You were always on-call. And you were always working. And even if you weren't technically on-call – and getting that extra top-up pay – you were still going to get called in if something popped. And chances were if it was bad enough that Hank was getting called – then they were likely all going to called. So it didn't really matter. Planning only happened so much. The only way you could really plan to have a day off was if you booked furlough. And even that was questionable when they were the kind of people they were and cops they were. Even if they were on furlough – if a city-wide happened, if a big case popped – they'd be there.

Jay shook his head a bit as he ate. "He hasn't mentioned. I haven't bothered asking. Don't want to get him something up his ass if I say something and he decides I'm asking for special treatment."

"Unit seniority, it's just Antonio above you," she mumbled.

Jay made a sound. "He's made some noise about Thanksgiving – with Eva's break at school. But shouldn't affect us. Adam's still puffing chest. So with his self-imposed penance – he'll end up volunteering to take it."

Erin made a sound of acknowledgement. She believed it. The whole dynamic between Hank and Adam had changed. The dynamic between Adam and most of the team had changed. Really – Adam had changed a lot as a person and as a cop. Sometimes she still wasn't sure what road he was headed down with that. If he still had the potential to be the kind of police that Al had seen in him. Or if he might be more charging toward the kind of cop that Disco Bob had thought Hank Voight and his foot soldiers were – cowboys.

"Hank sending you that memo better not be him trying to delegate turkey duty our way," Jay said, swirling some more noodles onto his fork.

"I think it was more a head's up that we'll be fending for ourselves," she said, still looking back-and-forth between some dates Hank had sent her and the entire CPD's operational schedule.

She was really trying to nail down more these other dates he'd tossed at her. The Members' Holiday Breakfast – that sounded like it'd be more with Max and Santa this year than Santa and Sue. It was pretty mandatory attendance. But she thought either he'd quoted the day wrong or one of them had read the rotation wrong – because the date he'd shot off looked like Intelligence might be on deck. It might've been his thumbs on the keyboard, though. She'd have to check Field's site.

And he'd shot off something about some day he was planning on taking Henry on "The Polar Express". She thought he must just mean the CTA Holiday Train so was confused by him tossing a date at her and sounding like he already wanted her to nail down if they were going to come. She thought it was a little early for the CTA to even have released the days the decorated train would be cruising what routes. But Hank knew people in the CTA so he might have some kind of inside track. And it didn't really matter anyway. They were still leery about taking the kids to doctors appointments and grocery stores – there was no way they'd be getting on a crowded CTA train crammed like a sardine can with small children and strollers. If Jay thought taking the twins into Med during Ethan's treatment was asking for an infection – the CTA was pretty much a petri dish.

"Which will evolve into us doing Thanksgiving," Jay muttered and then looked up at her. "We are not doing Thanksgiving."

She shrugged. "Okay."

"And we are not going to go over to Olive's to have whatever her current version of Thanksgiving dinner is," he added.

Erin raised an eyebrow at that. "That's fine. We can always go to Will's and be served Whole Foods' lukewarm, dry, and extremely over-priced version of Thanksgiving dinner."

Jay held up a finger at that. "One – that would still be better than whatever Tofurky Walnut Loaf Olive is planning. And two," he said with another finger coming up, "there is no Will's – remember? There is Natalie's place."

"Mmm …," Erin nodded at him. "Right, the very elaborate couch-surfing set-up that's masquerading as an engagement."

"Correct," Jay said.

"You realize they're likely saying the exact same thing about us. Only your brother is likely adding in that I 'trapped' you," she added with a gesture at the twins.

Jay shook his head and pointed at Ethan instead. "You did not trap me. That responsibility and accountability trapped me in this relationship."

Erin gave Eth a thin smile at that. His addition in her life – and the responsibility and accountability that came with it – had pretty much trapped her into maintaining an ongoing relationship with the Voights too. "Sorry about that."

"You should be," Jay said. "Really shitty that he was part of the deal."

She gave the back of his head a little knock and he looked up at her and then pointed. "And see," he reached and touched at her cheek. His thumb landing near where her cheeks were pulling just slightly into a smile and his forefinger caressing toward her eye. "And these hooked me," he added for her eyes and dimples and then moved his hand to caress gently at Eli's cheek too. The little boy made a quiet sound in his sleep at the touch. "And them landing here. That was the universe just sticking it to me."

"Mmm …," she allowed. "With all that, no wonder they're going to get to the alter before us."

Jay shook his head. "They won't," he said. "They're still knuckle-balling it. We're long-haul."

"Is that so?" she said.

"Absolutely," Jay said and gave her a long, serious, solemn look that creased slowly back toward a tease. "So clearly – three –". The fingers popped back up in front of her "There is no way were are sitting through whatever Natalie's Uptown version of Thanksgiving is. When I have that day off. Two days off," he stressed – initially wagging the three fingers had up at her again, only to correct himself, tucking the one into his palm.

"Mmm …," Erin allowed. "That's good. Because I'm sure things around here will be very exciting."

Jay gestured his arms wide through their disaster zone. "This is amazing," he said. And gestured more at the babies as he finished his sweeping movement. "Perfect. Sit here. Watch TV. Stare at them. Eat."

"Not the turkey we aren't cooking," Erin said.

Jay held up his plate at her. "This is ground turkey, right?"

She smiled and leaned forward, finding his lips and enjoying the kiss. But, though he was returning it, she could tell he had his neck strained at an odd angle. So she raised upright again and caressed his cheek instead.

"You taste good," she teased.

He worked at getting more on his fork. "Obviously," he said and held the serving up to her in offering. "This ain't no Chef Boyardee. Chef Erin Lindsay."

"Funny," she allowed. But she took the offered food and worked at chewing it. "The sauce is out of a jar."

"You're kidding me?" he teased again. "I would've totally guessed it was from a can."

But she just shook her head as she swallowed.

"Thanks for saving me dinner," he said. "Seriously."

She allowed a thin smile at that. "Live to serve …"

He gave he a little frown. She knew it was because he was starting to feel bad about dodging the marriage comment. He was weighing if she'd actually wanted to talk about it. Again. And as much as she did – she didn't. Not that night. So she just stroked his cheek again.

"You going to tell me about your day? Getting the hit that Voight got to you?"

He made a little sound and stared at his plate a bit – going back to focusing on his eating, and she wasn't sure he was going to answer. Or say anything at all.

He finally exhaled. And with it he leaned forward and placed his plate on the coffee table and then reached for Eli.

"Jay …" she sighed again.

But he didn't listen that time. He worked to get their son out of his bouncer and then pulled him to him, cradling him against his chest.

Eli's eyes darted around under his eyelids as Jay did it and then flickered open. Briefly setting on Jay. And then the baby let out the most contended little sound with a even quieter involuntary little baby smile across his mouth and they just shunk shut again and Jay looked down at him. And Erin looked down at the two of them.

"It was just one of those days where it's sitting in a van, waiting for something while doing a whole lot of nothing, followed by heavy-breathing down my neck about a whole lot of paperwork about that whole lot of nothing. Because all that legwork – and we didn't accomplish anything. And I don't know what the hell I'm doing," he muttered.

"Me neither," she said.

He made a little sound and let his head fall back to look up at her and she touched his cheek.

"Least we're trying to figure it out together," she offered.

And he nodded a little and looked down at Eli. "Yea," he allowed. "I think some of the figuring it out is working out pretty well."

And it was. Even when it wasn't ideal.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I was/am fairly happy with how that turned out. Hope you enjoyed it too.**


	9. Closet

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

"Dad …"

Even registering he'd heard that seemed to take Hank several seconds. A long time to pull his eyes away from staring into his wife's side of the closet. The realization that he wasn't entirely sure how long he'd tripped up in his thought process – his mission, chore - and just stood there. But realizing that E had been in the shower when he had gone to open that door – on that side. Was supposed to be a quick poke around. Something thought he could handle. Something he should be able to handle at this point – eight years in. But apparently he wasn't ready – or wasn't quite in the headspace – to have been doing that. Should've waited until his son was in bed – or had the house alone – to go opening that door.

But managed to grunt some recognition at Magoo calling out at him. Made himself pull his eyes away from the dress they'd been set on. The one that, of fucking course, had to be the one that his hand had landed on when he'd gone to pull back the clothes to get a part in them to see if that box – the one he thought must contain what Erin had been asking about – was still down tucked in the corner of the plywood shelves he'd hastily slapped up for his wife. The one that she'd said she wanted to store winter clothes – sweaters – between seasons. But had ended up holding pretty much everything but. At least on the lower shelves. A lot of boxes he hadn't looked in for years. Because he didn't go into Camille's closet. Her space.

And he'd been staring at a reminder of why. That sundress.

"You okay?" E asked him, squinting at him like he really mustn't look like he was.

But Hank only grunted again and looked back to the closet.

Fuck. She'd looked pretty in that dress.

Camille always did. But it wasn't too often she put on a dress. Wasn't too often she went out buying herself nice clothes. Though, he didn't think that this particular dress was anything that would've broken the bank. Cami didn't spend money that way – especially on herself. But he also didn't have much of a concept of what dresses cost – beyond knowing that ladies clothing always seemed to cost a hell of a lot more than anything in the men's department for a whole lot less material in most cases.

Did know, though, that this dress had hit all the right spots. Flattered them on her. She'd glowed in it. Those colors. The floral patterns. The straps. Her shoulders. She'd had it maybe two or three summers. Remembered because he'd made some comment the second time around about getting to see her in it more. She'd shot back at him about getting his act in order and booking some furlough – taking her to the beach – and he'd get to see her in more than that dress, and a whole lot less, for at least a week.

He hadn't gotten her to the beach, though. Supposed just like a lot of things he dropped the ball on – thinking there'd be lots of time for that. Thinking they needed the pay check more. That there were things going on in the city that needed more attention than some of what was going on at home then. Clearly hadn't had this thumb on the pulse of either enough.

But did see her in that dress a couple times that summer he lost her. That she got taken from him. Knew for a fact she'd pulled it out and had it on a couple times. Some barbecues where'd they had people over. Some hot, breezy days out on the back porch – just because. Or more than because. She'd be waiting for him in that. Because she knew he liked it. Though, more times than not, she'd tease him about it being the coolest thing she owned. Maybe she wouldn't have to wear it if he got the fucking window unit to work properly and actually installed it in the upstairs. But wasn't sure that tease did much to make him work at getting to that item on the honey-do list any faster.

"What are you doin'?" E asked. That time he was right up next to him, staring into the closet too.

"Your sister asked me to look for something," he rasped, making himself shake out of a bit more then. Couldn't get like this in front of E. Shouldn't let himself get like this at all. Been too long for that. Knew Cami would have other words for him if she knew he still got like this. She wouldn't take it as a compliment, he didn't think.

"Mom's dress?" Magoo asked. Confusion there. Suppose that was warranted. Was sure he didn't relate dresses much to his sister. She wasn't one to put on dresses too often either.

Hank gave the kid a glance. E looked like he'd barely gotten out of the shower. Hardly dried. Only his shorts on. Pretty close to a drowned rat – naked mole rat – he was so thin and translucently pale.

"You remember this dress?" was all Hank asked though.

E stared at him. And then looked at the dress a bit more. He shrugged. "From the picture," he said.

Hank grunted. From the picture. That was the reality of his youngest's memories of his mom. Vast majority of them were just from pictures. Stories. Not actual memories.

"My birthday," Ethan said.

And Hank grunted again. But that was enough for him to reach and push the dress aside. Didn't like thinking about that, even though that was one of the pictures he did keep out and on display for his boy. It was the last family photo they had. The five of them. Even though he knew for a fact there would've been other times they were all in the same place at the same time after that June weekend. Other days Cami likely had the dress on too. But none of them had been enough of an "event" to warrant having cameras out.

A little boy blowing out seven candles over that fucking disaster of a birthday cake that Camille had attempted. Looked like a toddler's attempt at making a dinosaur out of playdough had gone through a nuclear reactor and was glowing with the radiation waiting to be chopped up and served up to their guests.

That was worth taking a photo of. Apparently.

And Hank was glad they had. Now. Because all five of them were smiling in that moment. Looking like they were laughing – at the fucking joke that was their attempt to do something nice for their youngest and the family they had around them – from work, from the neighborhood. Because Cami was there and glowing in that dress of hers – more than the fucking cake and the candles on it. Because his oldest boy didn't look like someone had pissed in his coffee and shoved something up his ass to make him spend the afternoon celebrating his little brother. J actually looked like he was having a good time – like the rest of them. Because Erin had been off-rooster or on a night patrol – and had been over to help. And she was such a big help to Cami with E. Such a help to the whole family. Such a good fucking big sister to both his boys – and he could see they both knew it in that photo, her wedged there between them and right smack in the middle of it all.

Because his whole family – everything he'd worked for – was right there. And they looked happy in a way that he needed to remind himself what it'd been like to feel like that. That there'd been a time their whole family had been able to feel like that and live like that. Something to keep working back toward.

Real far back now, it seemed. It was the last birthday Camille had gotten with her baby boy. Her baby that she'd now been gone for longer than Ethan got to have her in his life. Gone longer than they'd even known they were adding a third kiddo to their family.

"Not the dress," he muttered at E and reached to move aside some of the sweaters, see if he could spot this box Erin wanted behind it.

"Erin wants Mom's sweater?" E interjected way too hastily. "She can't have that."

Hank gave him a glance and looked back to where his hand was. He looked back at his son. "This?"

E reached and nearly grabbed it from him. "She can't have it," he said firmly.

He gave the kid a little smack but stared at the kid. Stared at the way that kid was looking at that pile of wool – that he figured was about the same way he'd been looking at the sundress.

"You remember that one?" he asked a bit more carefully.

He could see it in the way E was holding himself against those crutches of his. The way he was clutching at the sweater. Could tell the kid wanted to bring it up to his face – feel the wool. Knew the kid likely wanted to take a whiff of it too. But Hank hoped he wouldn't.

Knew that part of the reason he hadn't opened Camille's side of the closet much wasn't just that he couldn't bring himself to go through her stuff and figure out what he was supposed to do with all of it. The other part had been the fucking dipshit idea that if he kept that side of the closet closed up that maybe it'd smell like her longer.

Didn't really work that way. Not when he had his door open near daily. Had known for a long time that he'd stopped catching whiffs of her – her perfume and fabric softener and detergent and deodorant and just her – when he was dressing over there in the morning. Been a period where he'd stare at her perfume bottle on the dressing table and contemplate if he should spray it a couple times over in her side. But thought that would be a disservice to them both. Actually thought the initial smell of it that much in his face might send him falling several steps back on the whole grief process. Sometimes didn't even know what stage he was at anymore – or when the end was really insight. So he actually just hadn't touched that bottle sitting there for years now. Sort of hoped that maybe it'd been there long enough that when he did bring himself to toss it that it wouldn't have that scent anymore either. Not the same one.

But he knew there'd be disappointment in E if he took a sniff expecting it to smell like her and it didn't. And it wouldn't. Not after all this time. It'd likely smell like the plywood it'd been sitting on. Maybe there'd be a long faded and stiff fabric softener sheet or mothball shoved somewhere in the sweater. But that wouldn't be the smell he wanted to associate with his mom either.

So Hank reached a bit and steadied E's hands to keep him from bringing it up to his face. Didn't need them both headed into that mind space tonight. He'd done a good enough job of letting himself get there.

"She wore this a lot," E said.

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged.

Tend to get a lot more wear out of a sweater in Chicago than a sundress. And the thick cable-knit weave was a bit more Camille's speed than the flimsy, flowing material of the dress too. Worked a bit better as insulation when she was out on the lake or tramping along riverbeds too. Though, knew she also would've held the kids in a whole lot of hugs and whipped a whole lot of tears and noses while she had that thing on. She'd pretty much lived in it – certain times of the year. Every year. Wondered how much E actually remembered her wearing it versus how much he just remembered the feel of the material against him when his mom hugged and held him and carried him while wearing that thing when he was just a little guy.

"You aren't giving it to Erin, are you?" E asked hesitantly.

He grunted and gave his head a shake. Truth was E saying that made him wonder if he should offer it to the kid. Wasn't exactly a feminine cut sweater. Actually thought it was a men's sweater. Fisherman's sweater when you got down to it. Cami had pretty much swam in it but liked it that way. Last layer in layers. E was always cold. He remembered it. Maybe he should have it – even though he'd swim in it even more than his mom. But couldn't manage to make himself offer that. Not that night. Just like it'd never occurred to him, until Magoo bringing up the possibility of something being given to Erin, that he should ask his girl if there was any clothing she wanted. Though, he also didn't know if he could handle Erin going through that closet and seeing her in anything she did pick out and claim. Though, Cami and Erin didn't exactly have the same fashion sense most of the time. And he thought it might be just as awkward and morbid for Erin to pick something out of there.

He'd given Erin some other things of Camille's. Jewelery. Books. He could handle that. Had made himself handle that. He wasn't sure about clothes.

He squatted and took a peak at some of the lower shelves. "She was asking about some of the Christmas books we had when you guys were little," Hank muttered.

"Christmas books?" Ethan asked. He was still transfixed by that sweater. "We don't have Christmas books."

Hank just grunted. "We do," he rasped. "Did. Just haven't pulled them out in a while."

He could feel E staring at him at that and he turned and just gave him another little smack. Been more than a while. Been since Camille had been gone, even though Magoo would've still been little enough he probably would've enjoyed them coming out for the first few years after his mom was gone. But that hadn't been one of the traditions he'd kept up for the kid.

He couldn't remember the logic of why. Part of it might've just been he hadn't really thought about it – because he wasn't thinking about much of anything to do with the holidays that first Christmas Cami was gone. Justin and Erin would've been so beyond that stage of wanting picture books read to them, neither of them had ever said or mentioned anything about them. Not that he'd retained. And even if they had, if he'd known they were up here, that would've been all the excuse he needed to put off pulling them out.

"Wouldn't they be in the basement?" E suggested. "Or the attic?"

Hank grunted and shook his head some, going back to his digging around a bit. He'd spotted a box and just needed to pull it out to see if Erin was right.

"Your mom wouldn't have wanted them to get damp, damaged," he mumbled and pulled it out. And there they were.

E stared a bit at them now, but Hank just yanked them up and took the plastic banker's box over to the foot of the bed. Popped the lid off for as his son came over to take a peek.

"That's a lot of books," he muttered.

Hank grunted and flipped through them a bit. A lot of memories too. Of little kids. Of family time.

"Your mom liked books," he said. "Some are from your grandparents."

"What's Erin looking for?" he asked.

Hank gave a little shrug.

She'd rattled off a couple titles. Ones that he'd immediately known were ones from when Magoo was a little guy. A real little guy. Stuff they would've been sitting and reading to him on high rotation. That Erin likely heard on repeat too. Or that E would've been dragging over and up into her lap wanting it read to him too.

"Think she just wants to take a look and see what there is," Hank allowed.

"For the twins?" E asked – stated.

He only grunted.

"The twins make you sad a lot," E said.

Hank gave him a look. "Meaning."

And E looked right back at him. "I just think … that they make you think about stuff … people. Mom."

Hank allowed a grunt at that and went back to flipping through the books, looking at the titles that Cami had amassed. Hard to look at it all. Memories of a different time.

"And that makes you sad," E stated flatly.

"Mmm …," he allowed but gave his kid a look. "It's not that kind of sad."

"Then what kind is it?" E asked.

Hank let out a noise and looked down again. "Just know your mom would've been having a real ball with H with him at this age. And that being a grandma to twins," he shook his head. She would've loved that. "She'd just be real happy and real proud of your sister. And you. Know the two of you …"

And he just didn't know what to say about that. But knew that Ethan would've been the little buddy Cami had been waiting for as a parent. She would've had so much fun with him growing up. Would've loved to see the way his mind worked now and the kind of interests he had. Skills. Would've been really proud of the young man he'd grown into.

"Just makes me sad she's not here to see and enjoy it," he said. He managed a weak smile for his boy, though. "But you and your sister, your nephews and niece, you—"

"Cheer you up," E completed for him.

"You cheer me up," Hank agreed. Just hurt a hell of a lot in that process.


	10. Puzzle Pieces

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Erin looked over at Jay while she hovered her beer just in front of her mouth waiting for his response to what she'd just lobbed at him.

It was her first beer in months. Months and months. And fucking (or lack thereof) months.

And she needed it. She likely was going to need way more than one to get through this conversation and anything that might transpire after it. Though, maybe not.

Apparently taking a break from the alcohol, combined with everything having two babies did to you body, made even a bottle of Jay's whatever-craft-brew yield a bit of a buzz without even getting through a single one. Or maybe he'd found something with a bit more kick to it to get him through the first month of having twins at home too.

But Erin actually suspected the kick was more in the taste. This was way too hopsy for her likes, which she thought likely meant pregnancy and postpartum hormones had gone and done something to her taste buds as well as her alcohol tolerance. Another joy of motherhood apparently. Fucked with everything else you had going on with your body – why not your taste too?

Jay was just lounging his head on the back of the couch. He was staring at the ceiling like she'd just put some kind of impossible brain teaser to him. Maybe in the eyes of a man she had. Or at least in the eyes of Jay – and his baggage. And hers. She knew wading through this wasn't exactly going to be easy territory for either of them.

Hence the shitty beer – that he'd likely paid too much for. He had his bottle hanging over the armrest, dangling in his hand – not taking another sip. Though, she thought he might want to with the way he was nearly wringing at her calves while he tried to piece together whatever response he was going to give her.

She'd gotten a little sick of waiting for him to come up with something and her feet maybe had nudged some up his thighs and nearly into his crotch. Like that might give him some kind of motivation to answer. Which really could go either way with Jay on any given night – but maybe more especially now.

He sighed at her movement and moved his hand a bit to stop her from getting too close. And met her eyes.

"I feel like we're negotiating how we're going to lose our virginity or something," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at that. "You negotiated how you were going to lose your virginity?"

He sighed again at her and raised his eyebrow right back. "It was discussed."

And the smile got wider. "How very gentlemanly of you."

He rolled his eyes. "How very verbally consensual of me," he contended and shook his head.

"Did you have her sign a contract agreeing to said terms and conditions of virginity loss and agreeing to all its implications?"

"The necessity of consent hadn't quite reached that point back then," he said.

"Mmm," Erin acknowledged and took another sip out of her beer. "So are you saying you'd be more comfortable if we drew up a contract now?"

"Erin …," he sighed at her again.

"Because we could still go and sign the marriage license if that would make this easier for you."

And his head lulled back again with a bigger exhale as he stared back up at the ceiling. And she let him for a second. She let herself for a second – because this wasn't something she could browbeat him about. But it was also going to be something that … eventually they were going to need to resolve. They all needed that stability. That foundation. And it wasn't just about them anymore. It wasn't about them getting over decisions made and actions taken. It wasn't just them working on themselves or getting over themselves that took precedent. There were the kids now. And as complicated as that made all this – it also sort of simplified it. They both knew what growing up in broken, fucked up homes did to kids. That wasn't going to be the twins. And it wasn't going to be how she lived as a 'couple' or a 'family' either. This was either going to work – or it wasn't. They'd had long enough to take this – playing house – for a test drive. Too fucking long.

She took another swig of her beer.

"So after this negotiation was it everything she wanted and more?" she asked.

He brought his eyes back to hers. "I don't think that night lived up to her expectations."

And Erin nearly snorted into her bottle at that but managed to smile at him. That was unfortunate. Though, she thought maybe Jay was right – maybe this was the same as his alleged first-time sex conversation. Only she was going into it hoping to temper each of their expectations and to go into it with their eyes wide open. But he'd given her too good of opening to say any of that.

"Does that mean she didn't like your routine?"

He gave her a look. Unimpressed. "I do not have a routine."

And her eyebrow got higher in contention. "You have a routine."

"I do not have a routine," he muttered.

And her foot pressed into the side of this thigh a bit. He had a routine. He'd gotten better about switching it up. A bit. But the foundations of his routine were there. In a way that now she'd been with him for a while – told her a whole lot about him and his level of sexual experience coming into the relationship. And his own hang-ups and insecurities. The walls he had and the fronts he put up.

Not to mention she usually knew exactly where they – or he – was in his routine. Which had its advantages some nights. Some being the operative word there.

"Don't worry," she assured. "Your routine works for me."

And it did. They'd worked on the parts that didn't. They were still working on other parts to get them both on the same page – in comfort levels and boundaries.

"And I'll trust that's because it's evolved since you were in high school," she teased.

He just shook his head at her and took a swig of his beer.

"Who does that," Erin muttered, taking a sip of her own drink again. "'Negotiate losing their virginity.'"

"Basically everybody," Jay mumbled over the neck of his bottle. "In some way, shape or form."

Erin hummed something at that. He likely had a point. Though, she knew her loss of virginity was a rather different negotiation that anything he was referring to. But she didn't want to get into that.

Maybe she could take some solace in the fact that she was apparently rather belatedly having some sort of conversation – or negotiation – that everyone had previously. Though, she found herself wondering how many other women actually had this talk with their partners. Or they were just able to get over themselves and dive back into this without any concerns or qualms. Or they just put out to shut-up their guy. That would just be some other type of negotiation, though. One without much of a conversation.

"This was … what's her face …," she said.

"Ali," he said with some warning and a little nod at her.

"Right," Erin acknowledged with another sip. "She was cute."

He rolled his eyes. But she was kind of looking for just that reaction.

"You want to tell me the negotiated details," she said. "Maybe it can help us set up ground rules now – since it feels like the same thing."

"You want to tell me the details of your first time," he put right back to her – a bit more seriously.

She shook her head over the lip of her bottle. "I think that's something neither of us ever wants to think about."

Jay looked at her for a long moment. She could tell he was measuring it - and the meaning behind it. His face changed and he gripped more tightly at her foot again, holding it in place and against his legs.

"Prom?" she pressed at him, arching her eyebrow and trying to lighten the mood again. "She seemed like a senior prom kind of girl."

It got the raised eyebrow back at her. "In the glimpse you got out of her."

She gave him a little shrug and a smile.

"I don't think anyone who took her dad with her to the prom should be passing judgment."

And Erin shrugged again. "If you got to pick between Hank and Old Eagle Eyes as dance chaperone – always pick Hank."

"Bigger on what's in the punch than on making room for the Holy Spirit at those things?" Jay asked. "Because I've more than gotten the sense shutting down both is a priority for him."

She smiled. "This," she said, gesturing at it herself, knowing it was right there. "I think it works on most dads. Of daughters."

Jay shook his head at that. But she also knew he'd seen it in action. That he'd complained about it when they worked together. That a smile for Hank and she got what she wanted. Which, wasn't entirely true. But she wouldn't argue there were situations that it was – and she'd definitely used that to her advantage more than once since she was fourteen years old.

And she knew too that Mattie was using it from the get. She already saw how their baby girl's involuntarily little smiles and grins had Jay wrapped around her little finger. They were going to be in trouble when she already had that figured out.

"Right," Jay said, "until there's some guy he decides looked at you funny and he needs to be telling them to keep it in their pants."

"Mmm …," Erin acknowledged and took another swig of her beer. "I don't think anyone's pants were open after Hank and Camille decided to have a baby the summer of my junior year. That pretty much worked as decent birth control for everyone involved. And more than dissuaded any boys who thought they might be interested in throwing pebbles at the window too."

"Your window's around back," Jay said.

"Yea," she said, "imagine when they were either hitting the boys' room or waking up Hank."

He smiled a little at that and gripped more at her feet. He massaged them briefly and swigged at his beer too.

"Her planning. It wasn't for prom," he said.

She was a little surprised he'd said that. She raised an eyebrow.

Jay only shrugged at her. "Her parents would've been up then," he offered. "Waiting for me to bring her home. I'm not good at being that sneaking around dad's back kind of guy."

"Says the guy who works Intelligence," she offered.

He gave another little shrug.

"Pretty sure you did sneak around dad's back if you got laid in high school, Jay," she offered. "Think it'd be a compulsory requirement with most dad's of teen-aged daughters."

He made a little sound of acknowledgement at that. And his head lulled again. Until it rotated and he looked at her.

"I was completely unengaged with all her planning," he said.

"Because you just wanted to get laid," Erin offered.

He shook his head. "No, because if I'm in my thirties and still have issues with you touching me that way, imagine how fucked up I was about it at seventeen and all my sexual experience—"

"Jay, what happened - that wasn't sexual experience," she said and shifted a bit closer to him. "It was abuse. Assault."

He exhaled and just kept looking at her. "Yea, so I thought, let her talk about it as much as she wanted. Figure out her parents' schedules and when we might have the place to ourselves. Put it off. And, really, if it's something you need to talk about that much – is it something either of you are really ready for?"

Erin moved again, shifting closer to him on the couch and leaning her arm over the back of it. Getting into his space a bit and staring into his eyes.

"Are we still talking about then? Or now?" she put to him.

He sighed a little. "I just feel like if maybe we need to talk about it this much, you just aren't ready yet," he said.

"If you're trying to sound like a line out of a sex-ed brochure, I think you're missing construing it," she said. "Because I'm pretty sure it's supposed to say something about communication being fundamentally important. Or something."

His eyes stayed on her – hard and soft – as he tried to decide what to say next. As he processed.

"If I've done … something …," he said with a half-gesture at his crotch "… that's made you feel like …"

"Stop," she sighed at him and adjusted herself to sit next to him more fully.

"I just don't want you to feel like just because the doctor gave us the all clear that—"

"Jay, it was three weeks ago the doctor gave us the all clear," she said. "And you definitely haven't tried to initiate anything since then."

He stared at her a little more slack-jawed. "I didn't want to pressure you."

She ran her hands through her hair a bit and stared right back at him. "Well …," she sighed at herself and made herself settle a bit more. "It also makes me feel like you aren't that interested in …" and she just gestured down her front.

Post-pregnancy body, C-section scars, and babies who thought they pretty much owned your body (and in a whole lot of ways, pretty much did, even when you weren't breastfeeding, she'd learned) didn't do anything to make you feel any kind of sexy – or in control. She'd thought she'd struggle most with that during the pregnancy – while having two human beings growing inside her – but there'd been a whole different and new component to it since the twins had been born. And in some ways it scared her more. While she was pregnant she'd thought it was a time-limited loss of control – this, now, felt like it didn't it didn't have a due date. And it was just going to go on forever unless she figured out a way to regain some of that control and find a way to adjust and operate in the new 'normal'.

And he just stared right at where the scar was under her clothing. "I just thought you weren't that interested … yet …," he added.

"I'm not," she muttered. She hadn't meant to – but it'd come out. Because – again – right now between still healing and still learning how to be a mom and sharing her body and time and space with new human beings in a different way all coupled with exhaustion meant that she really hadn't been that interested in sex.

"Then why are we talking about this?" Jay asked.

She exhaled and looked at him. "Because I know how—"

"Erin," he huffed out at her. "I'm fine. I get—"

"Can you listen," she pressed back at him. And he sunk back into the cushions and completely shut up. And she weighed if she'd made him shut down. So she reached and ran her one finger once against his temple. "I know how our relationship works and how it doesn't work when we aren't …" she sighed again and looked at him. "Being intimate. Not just the sex, Jay. But … because we've had to … work on things in that area …. It's … we communicate better. We work better when we just have … I don't know."

"Intimacy …" he provided, like he understood what she was trying to get at but didn't know how.

"So I don't want us to become that couple that … now we're just mom and dad. And we're 'tired'. And it's all about them. Not when we'd worked … so fucking hard," she mumbled, "this past year to …"

"Be more intimate …," he allowed.

She sighed again and allowed him a gesture and sunk back into the couch herself and stared at him again. She watched his eyes go up and down her.

"You haven't let me see you since …" he provided. "Not really."

She sighed and looked away a bit. He'd seen her – it. It just wasn't exactly like she was flaunting what she had now. And when she did have it all hanging it – it'd been more for the kids than for either of them or for the sake of their sex lives.

"I just …" and she shook her head and shrugged, turning back to him.

His hand snaked out though and rested at the hem of her shirt. He looked at her – long, testing her reaction but also seeking permission – and then he drew it up slowly, until her hand went up and held it into place and his hand moved to draw down the waist of the fucking maternity jeans she was still wearing. The ones that absolutely didn't fit right and did absolutely nothing for her figure – but they did fit loosely and comfortably enough against the scarring that the rubbing didn't causing the tingling and numbness that was driving her a little crazy. Or make her feel like the area was still going to burst open again.

She wouldn't exactly say it looked healed. It maybe looked like it was healing. But it pretty much looked like a mess. Even, though the doctors said that it was doing better on the side than it was on the out – she wasn't entirely sure she believed them.

Apparently an emergency crash C-Section pretty much left you scarred for life. She wasn't going to be one of those women who said the incision was barely noticeable that the doctors had done such a fine and delicate job on slicing her open. Because that wasn't what had happened. She'd been hacked open in an emergency organized-frenzy. Leaving a fine line a top of her pelvis hadn't been the priority.

Instead she had a long vertical area of puckered skin and flesh trying to come together in this ugly, angry way. That seemed to serve less of a badge of honor about the arrival of their babies – and more of a reminder that her body had betrayed her, and them, on their way out. And that she'd been cut open and stabbed – and fixed up – while Alvin had taken his own gut wound and hadn't pulled through to the other side. When her and EJ and Mattie had.

She let Jay look at it for a long second. Made herself let him look at it. She'd had to do that a lot. And she also hadn't. She knew it had a different – added – layer of memory and worry for him. Because he'd been in the room – until they'd had to fight to have him dragged out – while they were trying to get the bleeding under control. Scary moments – more than moments, minutes – that she couldn't remember where apparently there'd been the very real possibility she might bleed out. Where Eli was born dead and was pulled from her and surrounded by doctors and equipment from the get who struggled to revive him. Where Jay had been in a room where he'd thought it might just be him and Mattie coming out of it. And he didn't know what to do. And there wasn't anything he could do in those moments.

And they only talked about any of that so much yet. Because … what do you say.

His experience had been different than hers. And that scar – their birth – held different and added meaning for him.

So she didn't want him to look at it too long – not usually, not now, not ever, she didn't think. So her hand nudged his away and readjusted her clothing.

"You know I still think your body's amazing, right?" Jay put to her as she did.

"Jay …," she sighed at him. It wasn't what she wanted – or needed – to hear.

"I do," he pressed. "Essentially it's more amazing than before. I mean, look at what it did," he said with a gesture at the ceiling – to the room she'd put the babies down in the hopes of getting some privacy for this conversation and anything more. But the move that Jay had protested and though he'd relented in leaving them upstairs eventually the baby monitor was still what they were listening to that night rather than having any music on to try to set any kind of mood. Erin wasn't sure listening to every little sound of their sleeping infants was the kind of mood she was trying to set for this at all.

"You realize that my body essentially didn't work," she said. "That they came early. That he was born …" and she stopped herself, giving her head a shake and taking another sip of her beer. "That I couldn't breastfeed," she muttered around the bottle. At least that meant she was allowed this without dealing with that kind of guilt too.

Jay looked at her. Those eyes again. Those eyes got to her even more now, especially when she had them looking at her from multiple places – and sockets – all day. She was starting to understand more just what Hank was saying – without saying – when he said Ethan had Camille's eyes. And she sometimes wondered how he dealt with – how he could live with – that day-in and day-out now. She wasn't sure if it was a comfort or not. But it definitely made you feel all kinds of things.

"Erin," he said evenly, "we were scheduled for a C-section anyway. And you weren't sure you wanted to breastfeed. Even if you had decided you wanted to and the milk came in, with twins, we would've likely been supplementing."

She shrugged and took another swig out of her bottle. "Doesn't change the fact – this amazing body, didn't do the amazing things it was apparently supposed to do."

He settled his arm along the back of the couch and stared at her. But she just focused on drinking the beer – the finally mouthfuls. She was going to need another. She reached and put the empty on the coffee table.

As she rose back, though, Jay was in her space – leaning forward to meet her. Not just in her space – his lips found hers and he planted a careful, tender kiss against her mouth, his hand cupping her cheek as he did until he backed away.

She raised any eyebrow at him. "What was that for?"

"Because I wanted to kiss you," he said. "Because you looked like you needed it."

She allowed him a thin smile at that – and thought about kissing him back, again. But he'd backed away some more and stared at her.

"It wasn't Ali," he said.

Erin knitted her brow. "What?"

"It wasn't Ali," he nodded at her and reached to put his beer on the end table as he looked at her some more. "I stalled, put it off. Her off. And then I enlisted. And left. I was nineteen—"

"Nineteen? Really?" Erin put to him. She couldn't stop herself. It surprised her – and absolutely didn't. And she wasn't entirely sure how that made her feel about her past – and choices – by the time she was nineteen. Or what that said when they combined both their sexual baggage and past together. But it likely shed some more light on … the aspects that were less than ideal.

He just looked at her. "Almost," he said flatly. "And even then it wasn't for the right reasons so because I was ready or was with someone I cared about. It was just this other way to … try to be someone I wasn't. To make people think I was. To make myself try to believe. It was just this other fucking way to runaway and deny what happened. Or pretend that I was okay with it and had moved beyond it. So I couldn't tell you much real about it – or her. Beyond that alcohol was involved and it was likely well below her expectations too. And there's a string of women who could probably say about the same thing."

"You didn't have to tell me that," Erin said.

He shrugged at her. "Yea, I did – because we're real. This is real. So I keep … trying to be real with you, Erin. So, if we need to talk about it – and communicate – than we need to do that. Be real."

She stared at him and let herself settled her shoulder against the back of the couch, her feet and legs curling under her. His hand settling there.

"It's just hard feeling like my body isn't my own right now," she said. Finally.

They'd talked about that during the pregnancy. They'd found ways to deal with it in terms of their relationship and sex life. And she'd worked at constantly reminding herself that it was just a time-limited situation. That she'd have her control back. But it wasn't really working that way.

"Okay …," Jay allowed. "Is there something I can do to help with that? Because I'm not getting the sense you're all that interested in sex being the answer."

She sighed a bit and put her arm against the back of the couch – resting her forehead against the palm.

"I want to have sex," she allowed. "I'm just not sure how it works now."

Jay shrugged at her. "Think we had big barriers in the way a few months ago," he said, raising his eyebrow at her. "And we figured it out."

She allowed a little sigh at that. And just looked at him – because she didn't know what to say.

"There's other ways to be intimate, Erin," he told her.

"I know …," she muttered. But even though foreplay wasn't entirely lacking in their relationship – it was complicated right now. It felt complicated – when he didn't like her getting him off manually. And when she refused to go down on him. Rolled in with their individual aversions to various positions – and the reasons why. Though, they'd been forced to work through some of that during the pregnancy.

"If getting back in the saddle means you need to take the reigns," he said and gave her knee a little shake and tried for a teasing smile.

She allowed it a thin smile – for the effort. Because she knew he really hated when he didn't feel in control in the bedroom. He was trying.

"That'd be a sight," she muttered at him.

And his hand gripped at her knee a bit more. "Stop," he warned her firmly. And she met his eyes. "I don't care about that. Just like I don't care if you want to leave some stuff on or have the lights off. Or whatever makes you feel comfortable, Erin."

She sighed harder and stared at him. "I'm feeling pretty sure the entire thing is going to be uncomfortable."

"Then we stop," he said – looking her directly in the eyes.

And they stared at each other.

"I didn't exactly expect the first-time back at it was going to be hard-fucking and fireworks," Jay offered.

She exhaled. "I'm not interested in fireworks right now."

He shrugged. "Fine."

She looked at him more directly. "I'm serious, Jay. I'm … not interested in orgasming yet."

And he stared at her – his brow creasing. "Okay …?"

She rammed her hand against her temple again and looked at that concerned and confused look creasing all over his face.

And Erin exhaled slower. "There's times when I'm having to pick up them in their buckets that I'm still feeling like my insides want to fall out of me, Jay." And she nodded more directly at him. "Through my vagina."

And his jaw dropped a bit and he shook his head. "Well, that just makes me want to pack us into the car and go to Med right now."

She pushed his shoulder back into the couch. "I'm being serious. Real."

"So am I," he said.

And another exhale. "I just mean, I can't imagine what any kind of muscle contractions are going to feel like down there. Because I know what it feels like in daily life – and it's still hurts. It's uncomfortable. It cramps. So I'm pretty sure the entire experience isn't going to feel like sex to me. And that makes me think it's likely not going to feel like it to you."

"Erin, you didn't—"

She stopped him – looking at him hard in the eyes. She didn't need to be told again she hadn't given a vaginal birth. She didn't care that they'd been scheduled for a C-section – that's that what she thought she'd wanted anyways and that it's what the doctors had said was best for the size of the twins and the way they were positioned and growing. It didn't matter – not what they hadn't gotten to the date the twins were supposed to arrive, not when everything had gone down so far outside their plans.

"Things expanded and shifted," she pressed at him. "I went into labor. I had contractions. My cervix opened. I got cut open – through muscles and organs. Down there. I spent nearly eight weeks in adult diapers of bleeding out clots the size of plums, Jay. I've never had any period like that. So I'm pretty sure I didn't need to give a vaginal birth to know that things aren't going to be different."

He sat there and looked at her, until he finally said, "It is different. It will be different. And not because your body just grew two lives, Erin. It's going to be different because this has made us different as people and as a couple. And that's okay. Believe it or not, I had not catalogued away the way your vagina felt as a top reason I was – am – in a relationship with you."

"That's disappointing," she said flatly.

It got a smile out of him. And he reached to cup her head again. The times he frustrated her – he made up for in sweetness. Maybe too well. Considering she knew how broken he thought he was. And how broken she thought she was too. How broken their relationship was - as much as they kept working on it. But sometimes it did feel like they picked up each other's broken pieces and worked at trying them in all the places missing parts in the puzzle. She just hoped they weren't trying to force them into place - that they were actually making the big picture come together.

"I think you're likely doing your form and function mantra a disservice," she nodded at him.

He shook his head. "I actually think your vagina did what it was supposed to do in terms of getting us two kids here. And, as for it feeling good, I might've catalogued those 'one time thing' fucks," he teased but his eyes softened again. "But this year, the pregnancy, we did pretty at figuring out the whole making love thing, Erin. I sort of think that it feels pretty fucking amazing too. Maybe better. And maybe we're pretty good at that too."

She shrugged. "Maybe I agree with you."

His hand found where hers was against her temple and pulled it away from her face and squeezed it a bit.

"See. Intimacy. So we'll go slow – and on your timeline," he said. "It doesn't have to be all or nothing. And you say stop – I stop. We'll figure it out."

And she let herself smile a bit at that. And let herself lean into him to kiss him. To feel him kiss back – slow and tender, until he broke it just slightly.

"We don't have to figure it out tonight," he told her lowly.

But she gave a smaller shrug and leaned back into him herself. "Maybe we can't half-ass it at least a bit."

"Erin Lindsay half-assing anything?" he cocked his eyebrow at her.

But she only smiled a reclaimed his lips. "One-time thing," she rasped against them.


	11. Wormhole

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Ethan looked up from getting his literal Cool But Rude latte (for the MFuckin' A) and breakfast all in place in front of him. Getting the exact, hundo-p, perfect amount of cinnamon on top of it all. Essential meal prep. But he could tell Erin had been staring at him the whole time. He couldn't tell if she was judging him or laughing at him. Likely kinda bit of both. And he squinted at her across the table.

"What?" he demanded.

And then she really did smile. Like he was some kinda of big joke. "When did you become the little coffee aficionado?" she basically completely teased him. But again – sounded kinda judge-y and laugh-y to him.

"Whatever," he mumbled at her moved to working at trying to get the milk poured into his Cinnamon Chex (perfect pairing with his perfect drink) without spilling it all over the place.

Fuck he was tremoring that day. And she was definitely gonna notice that and be just as judge-y and nosey about it too. And likely only like point-two seconds (if that, 'cuz - Erin) before she started telling him coffee and sugar were only going to make his tremor worse. And fuck that. 'Cuz she should try getting through his day and his life without ever ingesting some kinda upper.

"I'm not some little kid," he told her pointedly and completed the pour maneuver without looking. As an added point to maybe keep her off his case for like another point-two seconds.

"Mmm …," she hummed at him. All Dad-like. More and more like him every day. And like now on double-time since she was a mom. Seriously. He should tell her that – than she might take it down a fuckin' notch. Or twenty.

But she was still laughing at him. Picking up the fucking lame-ass black coffee she'd ordered that was a completely pointless thing to order in a place like this. And she'd ordered it just like that 'black coffee' – like she was above (or below) saying Americano and like she didn't trust them to put her crap-load of sugar in it for her (probably for the best cuz that would've just been insulting to the sanctity of the process and the art).

But seriously – black coffee. Like, that's not why he picked this place. And then she just goes and orders what she could've poured herself a full-on, watered-down, and somehow always charred drip in the kitchen that Dad had sitting there since like 5 a.m.. Done. Without coming out. Black coffee. Dumb.

Dumber. Especially when he'd basically picked this place so she could get the Koopa Troopa. Like he'd literally told her to get that. And she didn't fucking listen to him. She'd just gone all Half-Wit black on him. Cuz when did Erin like ever listen to him on that kinda stuff. Ever.

And she should've listened. Cuz Erin. And peanut butter. And coffee. And chocolate. It pretty much sounded like a mix that was made to exist just for her. The universe – via him picking this place – put it front of her that morning. For her. But no. Fucking black coffee. Fucking stupid.

She'd turtled out on this one. For fucking sure.

"I'm a soph," he argued at her, trying to get the Chex to stay on the spoon and get up to his mouth. Hoping it'd make her eat too. And shut up. "Everyone drinks coffee. It's necessary."

"Is that so?" she said.

"Like you didn't drink coffee in high school," he pressed.

She just shrugged at him and took a drink of hers.

Ethan knew she drank coffee in high school. Erin pretty much might as well have like a port installed to have it just dripped into her at this point.

She lived on coffee. Or she had. Maybe not so much when she wasn't supposed to be drinking it when she was pregnant or whatever and he guessed he didn't see her drink it as much anymore. But he also wasn't like seeing her in the morning a lot anymore. Like even on weekends. This was pretty much the first weekend in forever he was actually seeing her at this time of day. And definitely the first time period that she had actually left the house and the twins and spent time with him. Just him.

"You said you wanted breakfast," he told her and shoved the food into his mouth.

"This wasn't what I was envisioning," she said and looked down at her stuffed croissant thing that actually looked pretty good but also still hadn't been what he'd told her to get. And definitely wasn't her usual mountain of pancakes.

But like he wanted to watch her eat that. Wasn't fair. Didn't care if it was like her maybe first time she was eating out since she had the twins. She'd already gotten lots of catering to her and special privilege and everyone being patient and helpful about that. And fine. She was his sister. They were his niece and nephew. He'd do all that. But he didn't need to sit through Stax for her too. Not when she'd invited him – and said he could pick.

"I hate Stax, you hate Glenn's," Ethan put to her – with a full mouth that Dad would slap him up the side of the head about and than not speak to him for the rest of the meal period. He'd just grunt and go all Voldemort stare at him. He was great meal-time company. As long as you were a mute. "Compromise."

She made that Dad noise again but took a bite out of her croissant. He could tell from her face it wasn't as awful as she thought it'd be. And she ate for a second without bugging him. Though she stared at him eating while she did.

"I'm not entirely convinced this is food you're supposed to be eating," she said when she swallowed.

Ethan pointed at his latte. "Honey, coconut milk," he said.

She pointed at the donut he had waiting for him. "And that?"

He gestured at it too – and all the trail mix coated on top of it. Breakfast Stan – breakfast at its finest. "It's super healthy."

"Yea. Donuts are super healthy," she shook her head.

"It's vegan," he defended.

"Ah …," she said. And shook her head and gave him a short glare.

"And non-gluten-ous."

And her cocked eyebrow that was all warning like. But whatever. He'd pretty much determined that sugar or gluten or dairy wasn't going to be what killed him – so have at it. Though usually when Dad or Erin weren't in sight-line. And in moderation – cuz even he wasn't that stupid. He knew what he'd pay for and what he wouldn't. It was all 'bout thresholds. One donut – that wasn't going to send the cup overflowing into flare-tactor bad-dom. Now if he'd gotten the Fruity Pebbles Sprinkled Donut – that might've. Sunflower seeds and dried cranberries – not so much.

And – full disclosure – he completely intended to go back up to the counter and get Dad a fritter because: 1) then he'd get transparency too and it'd keep him from getting up his ass about where'd they'd been and what he ate; 2) Dad had subjected himself to eating there with him too even though he thought the décor and atmosphere was ridiculous and a lot of the patrons were jagoffs but he'd still relented in conceding that some coffee and donuts weren't gonna kill him any faster than the dog cops who ate them every day of their lives (they'd likely give some of them heart attacks and Type-2 diabetes a whole lot faster than him too – FACT); 3) Dad had admitted that the baked goods and pastries here were the real deal and brought in from businesses that represented the real Chicago; so, 4) Eating here was A-OK, and; 5) Doing something like that would make Dad feel like thought of and cheer him up, so; 6) AGAIN – it'd keep him from getting all up his ass.

"Your dad must love this place," Erin said and gazed off behind him. He knew she was looking at the complete replica Deloran that was suspended from the ceiling against the back wall. And she was pretty much laughing at him.

And Ethan just kinda shrugged at her. Truth was he pretty much had been wanting to come here with Jay. Like if the Koopa Troopa was Erin's drink, he was pretty sure that this place was Jay's place. Like it was pretty much an explosion of '80's and '90's culture. And expulsion of awesomeness. Like Ghostbusters and Back to the Future and Star Wars and music and videogames and all this rando pop culture stuff from all kinda movies they'd watched together. And Ethan knew that Jay would be all like 'this is a place for jagoffs' too. And it kinda was. It was all like hipster, UIC types who were trying to be like ironic while gonna to a place that had almost definitely completely come into existence just to let them be all ironic and fan-boy about how retro they were about liking Stranger Things. But at the same time he sort of thought Jay'd think it was cool too. At least to like try to claim that ancient TV and the Nintendo table and play some Duck Hunter or something.

"Jay'd like it," he muttered.

Erin gave him a small smile for that one. One that wasn't laughing at him.

"But he hasn't really had time for this kinda stuff," he added.

She nodded a little and twisted at her coffee cup. "He – we're – both working at getting better about that, Eth. It's just hard to find time for everything with the twins right now."

He gave her a glance at that. Yeah. That'd been kinda how he'd been regulated with her. Something she needed to find time for. It sorta sucked.

Like he got it. He knew the twins technically needed her more than him right now. And he knew that her being home was better than her being in New York and like a hundred billion times better than her being U.C. with the FBI or whatever. Even with the twins and her being a mom and her not having as much time for him and her having to 'make time' for him. And he knew he still saw her a lot. Like he went there a lot after school. But that was a lot less them hanging out than it was like him sorta helping with the twins a bit and her sorta being up his ass about homework even though Erin truly sucked at homework in nearly every subject. And he knew he saw her most Sundays if Dad was off and cooking dinner. But she was still pretty focused on the babies even then and she never stayed very long and she usually kinda stuck with talking to Dad. Or collecting all the food Dad shoved at them like Erin didn't know how to cook or something.

But it just wasn't the same. Even though he got it. It just kinda sucked. It was like he had her back – in the city and in his life. But he also kinda didn't. It was just different. She was different.

And even though Dad talked to him a lot about them needing to let Erin have her own life and live her own life it still was sorta hard to adjust to the change. He sorta thought maybe it should be easier. Cuz he wasn't a little kid. But it also sorta wasn't. Not when she'd been away for so long and then come home pregnant and then a mom. It was like he'd still kinda lost his sister in it all. Like it wasn't really Erin that came back. Cuz she had to be different with the babies and being a mom. Even though she wasn't different. Like she was still Erin. But it was like Dad said – she had her own life now. And even though that's what she was supposed to do and what they were supposed to want for her with being her family – it still … sucked in a lot of ways.

"I was kinda surprised you wanted to do something when he's all R.D.O.," Ethan said.

And she shrugged again – but was all staring at him – and took another drink of that lame coffee she'd ordered. "I get too stare at the twins lots," she said. "He can have his turn."

"Yea, I just kinda thought you prolly would've wanted to spend your big morning out with like Kim or something."

"What do I have to talk to Kim about?" she muttered at him and he kinda looked at her a bit harder and tried to get what she meant by that. But he musta kinda looked like he was processing too hard cuz she had to be all, "Like I'd want mark this momentous occasion with anyone but my favorite guy."

And he did his own eyebrow raise at that – cuz she'd taught him well. And cuz that was pretty much B.S.

"Pretty sure I'm 'bout number four on that list," he said. And she raised the eyebrow right back. "Jay," he put bluntly. "EJ. Dad."

And it got her looking at him more directly. "Don't be like that." And there was some big-time warning in her voice. Like she did think he was acting like a sulky little kid. But it wasn't that. It was just this was complicated and hard. Just.

He didn't know how to try to talk to her about it. Or Dad about it. He even felt like a complete jagoff saying anything to the stupid, jagoff therapist about it. Cuz it did make him feel like he was being a jagoff. Like it could be worse. But even though there was good and happy stuff in all this – there was a whole lot of worse stuff. Even if he was glad Erin was home. And even though EJ and Tillly were really growing on him. A lot. And even though he was early, super glad that Erin and EJ and Tilly were OK. But it didn't change that Erin was different now. And Dad was different. And bad stuff had happened. Again. And he had his own stuff going on. But sometimes if he said too much Dad told him not to get all angst-y on him. But sometimes shit just really sucked. Even the good stuff had shitty stuff attached to it. Always.

But maybe it was kinda the same for Erin. She had good stuff happening for her. But it came with the bad. Like she knew getting cut open and the babies being kinda sick and preemies definitely ticked off Column B on that list. And like Uncle Al – and when the twins had been born and all that was definitely Column B too. So she likely had other Column B stuff too. Maybe like she was dealing with Column B stuff if basically she'd decided she needed to go out on a day Jay was off and she pretty much picked him out of everyone to hang out with. Like as much as Ethan thought that was good for him and maybe kind of a compliment or at least like her trying to make time for him and for things to maybe kinda half-assed be like before – maybe it also meant she was dealing with some of her own Column B stuff too. Because life seemed like a whole lot of an item off Column A and an item off Column B always.

So maybe he needed to like – man-up there. And be there for her. Like brother-like. Like she did sister stuff for him too.

And he really was trying. But sometimes it was hard to know how he was supposed to do that. When she was the older sister and he was just the kid brother. And life was so fucking complicated. And fragile. And he shouldn't fucking know that because a whole lot of people at school didn't seem to having a fucking clue about that. But he really fucking knew that.

It was like all this now stuff and life stuff was the same as living in some wormhole. Waiting for it to fucking collapse all around you. Day after day – cuz despite all its promise you never really seemed to travel through it and pop out on the other side fast enough. It was like it really was just all theoretical. That it didn't get you through time nor space nor nuttin. It didn't make any journey fucking easier. It was like it might as well not even exist. It wasn't reality. At least not theirs.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Decided to split it. Next chapter will be a continuation.**

 **Thanks for reading. Reviews and feedback are appreciated.**


	12. The Neighborhood

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

"I picked it cuz I thought you'd probably want to go up to Randolph Street after," Ethan offered of his coffee break selection. And cuz even though he hadn't wanted to watch Erin eat pancakes at Stax, he figured that she maybe still wanted to do her like day-off thing and go look at flea markets and consignment stories and record stores and used book stores and garbage piles at the curb thing.

So he was trying to be like patient and accommodating about all that since he knew it was time kinda about her even if she was kinda picking to spend it with him so maybe it was sorta about her and him too. So he was trying to do stuff they might've done before even though that sounded like really cold and like a whole lot of walking and standing around and looking at stuff he wasn't going to spend his money on and that she almost definitely wouldn't be spending her money on. And he didn't think his patience or his pain threshold were exactly up to any of that today.

But "Maybe" was all Erin said. That sure didn't sound like a 'yes, definitely'. But she also seemed pretty fixed on looking at the little cookie they'd put with her black coffee. "Is this a Teddy Graham?" she asked, picking it up and examining it more and then showing it to him.

"Yea," he shrugged. "They're homemade. Here."

"What is this place …," she muttered and glanced around again with like a look that again said she was being all judge-y and thinking that this couldn't be a place she should be sitting in. Erin would never admit it was awesome. Just like she pretty much complained through every '80's and '90's movie Jay ever put on for movie night hang out. Even though she'd buy such random weird crap at her random weird stores that were likely as old, or older than the '80s and '90s. And like all her music was '90s stuff. Or like Dad's era stuff. And that was okay by here. But she had to be a ball buster about the movies. But that was just Erin. She always had to be busting your balls about something. He pretty much knew that was the way she'd be here but he'd also sorta hoped that maybe she'd just be cool.

"They have homemade poptarts too," he said. "You shoulda got one. Or for Jay"

She made a face. Like that was some kind of disgusting. But he'd also seen the way Erin ate. And it was usually some kind of disgusting. Which pretty much explained why Dad handed her the entire freezer every Sunday she came over now. Even though he said it was cuz Erin had her hands too full to be cooking real meals most days. Ethan wasn't so sure that was the real problem with Erin cooking real meals most days.

"So is this where you're spending all your allowance on your lunch breaks?" It was a tease. But it kinda pissed him off.

Ethan glared at her a bit. "To do that Dad would need to sign off on me actually being allowed to leave campus for lunch."

It was so fucking stupid. Dad wouldn't sign the form. Had a whole list of reasons about why he wasn't allowed to leave campus. That he didn't want him spending his cash all stupid on lunch. That he didn't want him tiring himself out by going somewhere for chow and then ending up flaked out in the nursing station all afternoon. That he didn't want him to end up in a situation where the other kids were getting at him without adults or administrators being around.

Even if some of it kinda made sense, it all just seemed like a bit of a pile of bullshit too. Cuz even though Dad pretty much had to be dealing with something gone completely fucking sideways for him not to be there in the morning and still fucking insisting on dropping him off at the curb and not pulling away until he saw him go in the doors at Iggy's, Dad also let him get to his own stuff and do his own thing like ninety percent of the time after school. He could go to wherever in the neighborhood. He could go home. He could go to Erin's. He could buy whatever junk food he wanted or spend his money on whatever he wanted. He could get to District. He knew how to get all the way over to RIC. He could get to Field himself. He took care of his own feeding and the dog and chores and starting homework and either preppering dinner, all-out making dinner or at least putting what Dad had done up in the the stove. He wasn't some little kid.

But Dad not signing that fucking sheet made him feel like one. And it made him feel like Dad didn't trust him. And it made him really fucking feel like he was the one being punished cuz the kids at Iggy's had done shitty things to him. So now they could do whatever they wanted on lunch but he had to stay around Iggy's like he needed some kind of babysitter and protector. When the fucking teachers and admin and board didn't give a shit about him or what those kids did or the ways they still jabbed at him about it all. It didn't make sense and it wasn't fair.

Just like it wasn't fair and didn't make any fucking sense that basically everyone – all the rich, white kids – in his school went on and on and on about the neighborhood like it was some kind of slum. Or the ghetto. How they went on about how Ignatius was such a 'intrincit' (cuz so many of them liked to talk like they were living in the Victorian era or something cuz they thought that made them sound all smart and not just like a complete basic douchebag) part of Chicago and now it wasn't much more than a downtown inner city school and their parents only sent them there cuz it looked good on college applications and you'd pretty much get to go to whatever school you wanted as long as you got all A- (like that was so fucking easy) and how even if they weren't their parents were on the board so they still would get the marks and recommendations they needed to go wherever they wanted anyway and at least when they were on campus it looked like they were living the life of some like private school in the movies. Like Hogwarts or something.

So they said all this. They made it sound like they couldn't or shouldn't leave campus. Ever. Like the ones that had to take train in from their rich-ass suburb and then ride a fucking city bus made it sound like they might as well have been on the steerage car of Mongolia Express only to end up on a bus in like some sub-Saharan minibus or something. Like it was scarring to their existence and the most terrifying thing that ever happened to them and they had to endure it every day to get through to the "inner city" in this shitty neighborhood. But then they still went out for lunch anyway. And on their spares.

And then he heard them talking. About places in the neighborhood. Some of them they made fun of. And then some of them they acted like they'd made the discovery and propped up the business all on their own. Some of them acted like they'd never had Italian Ice before. Some of them acted like this place existed just to serve them. When it definitely didn't. When so many of the places they talked about in this "shitty" neighborhood that they'd discovered "this gem". They were fucking places Dad had been taking him forever. Italian Ice and Carmine's Rosebud and Manny's real delicatessen counter with real pastrami. And the Jackalope Tea House had been there forever too. And so had Dark Matter and Sweet Maple and fucking Stax and Skinny Piggy and Pop Shop and The Alley.

These were his places. This was his neighborhood. And he fucking hated that he was confined to the school – kept out of his neighborhood. While all these jagoffs got to talk smack about the Near West and the Little Village and then go and show how two faced they were coming back and talking about the places and the people in this place they supposedly hated and were scared of. But they were the kind of people from the kind of places that this neighborhood hated too. It was their kind of people who didn't get the neighborhood and their kind of people who were tearing down what was there – homes and businesses – to build all the fucking condos that no one from the neighborhood could afford. To sell shit that no one from the neighborhood wanted or needed. And then for them to move in and wreck what it had and keep pushing people back more and more into the real areas that were kind of sketchy. For the neighborhood to stop being theirs and to be all about these people now. And about jobs at the university and jobs in the medical complex. And all these glass shiny towers.

And that wasn't supposed to be what the Near West was. And it wasn't what Iggy's was supposed to be like forever ago when it got built either.

So Ethan didn't understand how he could get all that and hear Dad talk about it and see it himself and have opinions on it and know where the safe parts of the neighborhood ended and the bad ones started and was comfortable using the bus and comfortable walking the streets to Erin's or District or even to all the way here. But he still wasn't allowed to leave campus. He still just had to listen to all of them wag their tongues and shoot off their lips.

And basically he had to put up too with Dad and Erin treating him like a little kid in one second and then basically demanding of him to be a grown up in the next. And for neither of them to ever just treat him his age. Like he didn't feel like other fifteen-year-old's and other Grade 10s around him. He didn't look like them. He wasn't interested in the same stuff as them. It was like sometimes he felt so much younger than them. And sometimes he still just wanted to be a little kid. There were stuff that he'd been allowed to do and be interested in and ways he could get away with acting as a kid. But now like it wasn't allowed cuz he was fifteen. Since he was a 'teen-ager'.

But Ethan didn't feel like a teenager. He didn't know what he felt like or what being a teenager was supposed to feel like. But he didn't think it felt like this. He didn't think he was supposed to have seen and dealt with a lot of the stuff that he had. He didn't think he was supposed to wish that he was still like twelve or thirteen and was allowed to be a kid.

But he did know he didn't want Erin and Dad to treat him like a little kid. But he didn't want them to make him be more than a grown-up than he already felt like he had to be. He just really wished people could treat him his age. Whatever the fuck that meant.

 **AUTHOR NOTE**

 **Splitting again. Will post continuation later.**


	13. Always

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

"Then how'd you find this place?" Erin asked.

And he glared at her a bit. Cuz that was basically a Dad question. Interrogation. He really fucking hated that. It went totally like back to trust. And to them just treating him like a little kid.

"It's new," she put to him with that eyebrow going up again. Cuz she must've known exactly what he was thinking. And she likely prolly knew too that he was completely going to call her on it. He was gonna tell her she sounded a lot like Dad and she wasn't Dad. So basically she could fuck off. Without telling her to fuck off. Cuz he didn't say that to Erin. Partially cuz it was way more than kinda not how you treated your sister. And also partially cuz she'd likely beat the shit out of him if he said it (metaphorically and literally). And she'd prolly tell – or like allude that he'd said it to Dad – and then Dad would be all up his ass. He'd get another lecture 'bout how you treat women and people and language. And then he'd likely be grounded and dropping cash in that stupid fucking swear jar – after Dad decided to crawl out of his ass.

Erin was such a fucking Daddy's Girl. Still. Older sisters were a complete pain in the ass.

"Not that new," he contended. Just looking right back at her. They could play this game. Like he knew how to spar with her. They did it all the time. Cuz she as a pain in the ass. Which was pretty much cuz she was an older sister.

Tilly better not be this much of a pain in the ass to EJ. Even being older by whatever number of minutes. She likely was gonna be. It was likely a sister thing. But if she was like that he'd hafta figure out like an uncle thing to be a pain in her ass. And beat her up and spar with her. But he was also pretty sure that nieces and nephews were just a pain in the ass. Henry was.

"New enough," she said. "I've never been here before."

And he shrugged at her. "Yea," he nodded right on at her. "And you were A-WOL and then you were pregnant and anti-caffeine."

She just shook her head at him. Gave him that look that was pretty much the female version of Dad's Voldemort. Highly unattractive. And she went back to eating her lame croissant thing. Total waste of coffee-time.

And so maybe she had a point. Maybe he didn't come this far up that often. Though he did more now with where Olive was living. So there was that. There Erin. Boom.

Cuz sometimes he had to act like he was more interested in hanging out with her and Henry than he was with Erin and the twins. Or Dad. Or Bear. Or doing homework.

Basically Dad glared at him just like Erin was if he didn't go over and like visit and help Olive and play with Henry like a few times a month. Which also sorta sucked. It was always more than sorta awkward.

At least when Olive brought Henry over if it was sorta awkward he had his own stuff and space to distract him from how sorta awkward and weird she was. Or he could just let her talk to Dad (even though she totally did not seem to care when Dad absolutely clearly either thought she was insane, stupid, or was wondering what the hell J was thinking when he dropped his pants and procreated there – even though Dad always said Olive was a 'nice girl' and 'trying real hard to be a good mom to H'. Still Dad clearly definitely gave off shut-the-fuck-up vibes that Olive chosen to deal with by keeping on talking and talking and talking while not making eye contact which Dad got pissed off when anyone else did but apparently it was almost OK when she did cuz he'd never heard Dad give her any shit about it). Alternatively when Olive and H was over Ethan could always just pretend she was like talking to Dad even when she was totally talking to him. But if Dad was within hear shot he could pretty much pretend he couldn't tell – and he was the awkward and weird one – or just deaf and like didn't have to respond to any of it. Cuz she said some stuff that kinda annoyed him and then other stuff that kinda upset him and then other stuff that pretty much just pissed him off. Sometimes he wished she talked less.

But he knew that sometimes Dad and Erin and pretty much everyone wished he talked less too. So he tried to give Olive the benefit of the doubt. And he also just tried to keep Dad off his ass. So another win there for Dad.

"People from Museum Club like it," was all he muttered at Erin, though. To try to keep it simple and to try to stop the showdown. Or at least divert her interrogation. Or distract her or something.

"Because this is the closest coffee shop to Field." And she raised her eyebrow at him even more.

"It's straight down Roosevelt," he contended back at her. "It's only like two miles."

"Only …," she said and kept looking at him. And she picked up her black coffee like she was going to take a drink but then directly looked him in the eyes. "So how's that going." And only then she took a sip but still stared at him.

"Museum Club," he played dumb. "Good."

And she did her eyebrow thing again. And pretty much the pucker Dad did too. Even though when she did the whole smack thing she did it way quieter than Dad. But she still fucking did it.

"Caroline," she said.

Ethan just flared his nostrils and went back to digging into what was left of his cereal. It was getting soggy. And he had totally not signed up for this.

"I don't feel like being interrogated," he muttered at her and shoved the food into his mouth.

Erin tried to act all innocent. "How is asking about your new 'friend' an interrogation," she said.

"Cuz you're saying it all like that," he pressed right back.

But she just smiled at him.

"Don't be all Dad-like," he hissed at her.

Erin just shrugged. "Just thought it must be getting serious if she's willing to come all this way for 'coffee'."

"It's coffee," Ethan spat. "Not 'coffee'. And it's not that far. On the Twelve."

"Mmm …," Erin smiled around her cup. Now she was just being a shit.

"And that sounds just like Dad too," he said.

"That's mildly insulting, Ethan," she said – all patronizing-like. She clearly didn't give a shit and thought that his even saying that amounted to about the lamest burn ever. But it wasn't even meant to be a burn. It was a total fact.

"More and more like him every day," he offered. "With the Mom Jeans to prove it."

"Now, that is insulting, Eth," she said. "Mom Jeans are way too trendy for me. I'll have you know these are still maternity jeans."

Ethan looked at her. "That makes a lotta sense. Even more on point."

She allowed that a small smile and drank her coffee a bit. But still kept looking at him. He was feeling kinda uncomfortable with the way she was.

"Are you in a big hurry to get out of here and over to Field?" she asked.

He shrugged and shook his head. "It's not a Saturday with our programming. And Saturday, Dad."

She gave a little nod at that and drank some more coffee. "Big plans?"

Ethan shrugged again. "He's likely already gone on his walkabout," he said.

And that got a better smile out of her. But it was another fact. Dad had his walkabouts. It was like he had even more of them now. Ethan could kinda tell what was what.

If it was night and Dad took Bear with him it was basically that Dad was goin for a smoke and he wasn't supposed to say anything about it unless he wanted to have another big fight with Dad. If it was night and Dad didn't take Bear and didn't take the Escalade than he was likely just goin to either Carmine's or the Social Club. And then it'd smell like cigars, cigarettes and either whisky, beer or wine when he got home. And if he took the car then basically you weren't supposed to ask any kinda of questions and even if you did Dad didn't give anymore of any answer than he had to go take care of something. Whatever that meant. Most of the time, though, Ethan was pretty sure it wasn't like specifically job related though he kinda thought it probably was too. In like a Dad way. And probably a way he didn't really want to like completely understand like ever. He thought maybe.

But Dad's weekend walkabouts were different. They were basically just errands but Ethan kinda liked going with him. It was like it did make you feel like part of the neighborhood and the community. And like Dad knew everyone and everyone knew him. And like he had some kind of power and like could take care of the people there and protect all of them. Like he had all these eyes and muscles behind him in all the right ways. And sometimes it was nice to feel like that even for like an hour or two on Saturday morning. Cuz he definitely knew that Dad couldn't take care of and protect everyone. And like things came back hard. But for that little bit it still felt like … Dad was like that kinda invincible dad you wanted to believe your dad was. Or maybe that you kinda needed your dad to be when you were a little kid. And even though it wasn't reality it was sorta nice to live there for a bit.

Besides Dad seemed sorta happy on those walkabouts. And even though it was errands there was always like getting good food. And breakfast. And coffee. And places like this. And Dad talking to him.

"If not, I guess I'll get to watch him flirt with the butcher 'bout what cut of meat he wants to pound tomorrow."

He saw that Erin smiled more at that and almost laughed but she sucked it in hard and shook her head at him. "Has he heard you talk about his routine that way?"

Ethan gave her a little shrug. "He says he likes my motor better than my sass."

"Mmm …," she said again and took another sip out of her coffee. And then stared at him as she put it down. "How's he doing?"

Ethan stirred at his cereal. "He was a lot easier to take when you and Uncle Alvin were in his life."

He felt her staring harder at him and all sad like and he gave her a glance. "I'm still in your lives, Eth."

It sounded kind of weak. Like she didn't believe it and she knew there was more than some fact to the statement too.

"I mean like you guys being at work with him," Ethan offered, though.

Cuz it was what he meant. Cuz he was kinda thinking with everything that happened and Erin being away and Uncle Alvin and Jay and the twins and basically everything that like Erin sorta helped Dad like keep his temper and like stable and all that sort of thing at work. And just always.

It was like he knew how Dad said that basically Erin was sorta what held everyone together for a long time. Like the family. Like Dad and him and Justin. Like she tried to keep them all one track even when they were all off track. And even when everything was goin wrong. And Ethan wasn't sure he really got what that meant for a long time. Like maybe that was something he was too little of kid to appreciate what Dad meant by it in like to show love and appreciation to his sister and to like recognize she was an adult and authority figure in the family and not just his friend and his big sister. And he did but he also didn't really get it.

But now he did. Maybe not the entire way Dad had meant it when he went all into lecture mode and shut-up and listen mode. But he got it in his own way. And he knew there was a lot of truth to that statement. But it wasn't like just for the family. Only it was for the family only it was like Erin did all that kinda stuff for Dad. And now she didn't so much. Or she did in a different way. And it was all just different.

And it was kinda the same with Uncle Alvin. It was like Dad had lost his best friend. And like Ethan knew Uncle Al did a lot to take care of Dad and to take care of the family too. Like take care of Dad at work and like to make sure he was being an okay dad and all that. Like so he kept things in perspective. And so he was someone to talk to. And like someone else for all them to talk to too. When things were going wrong or they were worried about stuff. And needed help. Or they needed someone to help Dad or the family. And that was all gone too.

"I think he's just really lonely," Ethan said.

And Erin frowned and reached and gave his hand a little swipe. "I know," she said.

"So why don't you ask him to work for Intelligence again?" he asked. Actually he knew he pretty much near begged her.

And she sighed and sank back across the table. "It's not that simple."

"Dad would totally give you your job back," he spat at her.

"It's not his decision to make, Ethan," she said and let out this real hard sigh. "I know you don't really understand everything that happened. And I didn't do a very good job at explaining it. But I screwed up, Eth. And that means it's not going to be easy for me to end up back on the job. Not with CPD."

He sighed at her a bit himself. Cuz he really didn't think that worked. Like he definitely didn't think that worked for her. But he also really totally didn't think it worked for like the whole family. Like everyone. Like she needed to be there for Dad and for Jay and for like her to be her in the family again. And like for it all to work right again even though it was different.

"Then what are you gonna do?" he asked.

"I'm still working on that," she said.

And he huffed at that.

"I've still got time," she pressed at him. There was a tone to it. Like Dad or Jay had been busting her about it. Or she was probably busting herself up about it too. Cuz Erin was kinda like that.

"You aren't going back to New York, though?" he pleaded.

She shook her head. "That is an absolute no."

He exhaled a bit and pushed at his Chex. They looked gross. "Can't you just do what you did there here?"

"That's something I'm trying to get sorted," she said but then looked at him more directly. "But I don't really feel like talking about that this morning."

He gave her a look. "Erin, I just told you my big plans for the day are this and then to like to go with Dad to get a roast. It's not like I've got a super thrilling life or anything to talk 'bout."

"I'd seriously like to know how you're doing with the Caroline stuff and the Eva stuff," she said when she put her cup down. "It's a reasonable nosy, big sister territory for me to wedge myself into your business."

He huffed at her a bit. "There's nuttin to know. They're both just friends."

"So which one are you taking to Snowflake?" she asked.

"I'm not goin to that thing," he muttered.

The less time he spent on Iggy's campus the better. He definitely wasn't going to like voluntarily spend his free-time there. At something that would pretty much no-matter-what be setting them up to figure out something to bust his balls 'bout. And it seemed like that whole fucking school had enough ammo for that now anyway. He didn't need to give them anymore by trying to fit in or be part of the community or any of that. He'd already more than figured out that he didn't fit and that the whole place would prefer he didn't exist.

"Okay," Erin shrugged. "RIC's holiday party?"

He sighed and looked at her. "I can't invite Caroline to that."

"Why not?" she asked. "Eva?"

Even Eva now pretty much kinda was a non-issue too. Only she wasn't. It was all complicated too.

It was like he just made things complicated for her too. And she wanted to fit in and be part of the community. Even though she was figuring out now that that was pretty much impossible. If Voights didn't fit Iggy's demos, Eva's family definitely didn't. Though they'd tried to make her feel like she did until the summer. And then they'd gone and been complete assholes to her too. That fall when she hadn't let them use her the way they wanted to.

And Ethan felt bad for her. And they still talked. And he'd told her they were jerks and assholes. But he was also still pretty hurt too about everything. Her dad sayin they couldn't hang out anymore. And her saying forever that she didn't want to be boyfriend-girlfriend and she wasn't interested in having a boyfriend until she was in college and maybe not even then since she wanted to work hard in school and have a good career and be different than her mom and all that. But it ended up pretty much seeming like what she meant was that she just didn't want him to be her boyfriend. Though, he knew she'd still had like all her rules and regulations and stuff about all that sort of stuff and that had been part of why things had just kinda blown up on her with trying to be friends with people from Iggy's. And to have that kinda boyfriend. And to do that when she was like some novelty. But she was such a Hermione Granger she hadn't wanted to think like anything about her made her the oddity that they'd be just trying to take advantage of in some way and just lookin for something to use against her. And they'd pretty much found it.

And Ethan got that on some level. Like maybe he hadn't exactly been in that kinda of situation. But he knew what it was kinda like. And he knew what it was like having that kinda stuff used against you. And then talked about at school. And how it all just made you feel like a bit of a freak on top of being used.

So he was still trying really hard to be her friend. But it was hard when they also didn't really feel like friends anymore. And when she wasn't even supposed to be his friend according to her dad and her grandma. And hard too because they were like basically just school friends now but she was way smarter than him so they didn't have any classes together. And between bells she basically didn't want to be seen with him cuz he was pretty much a bigger mark than her.

He shrugged. "Eva doesn't go to Ability Lab stuff much anymore. It's just …"

"Complicated," Erin in-toned at him. Cuz that's basically when he usually said to her when she asked. And Dad.

"I don't think Caroline really totally gets that I'm kinda sick," Ethan muttered.

Erin gave him a frown. "She's a bright kid, Eth," she said. "I think she's got it figured out as much as you've let her."

He flicked at a sunflower seed on his donut. "Yea, well, I think Kim's got figured out that you've got kids now but you still didn't want to hang out in all that with her."

And she frowned at him more. "That's complicated too," she said.

And he shrugged at her. "How?"

She made this sound thing and flicked at her own little flakes of pastry on her plate. "Because right now my life isn't that interesting," she said.

"That makes it sound like you hate being a mom," he said.

And she gave him this really sad little smile. "It's just a really hard job," she said. "But it's not one that leaves you with much to talk about. Especially to people who don't have kids yet."

"So then why don't you make friends with people who've got kids?"

She smiled a bit at that. "Because I'm about as awesome as you and our dad at making friends."

He picked off a seed and chewed on it. "Doesn't the community center at Sheridan have all kinds of like mom and baby stuff?"

And she made that noise again. "Mommy and Me is so me." He squinted at her and that comment. But she just gave him another one of those weak smiles. "Hard to take them out to that kind of stuff when there's two of them and one of me."

"That sounds like an excuse," he said.

And she shrugged at him. "It is," she agreed and took another chew on her breakfast. "And it's flu season. And we still need to be careful with them about that."

"So you're still going to basically not take them to anything," Ethan muttered.

And she cocked her head and her eyebrow at him for that one.

"What?" he protested. "You basically refused to do like everything this fall."

"They're preemies," she pressed at him. Like he was stupid and like they all hadn't heard that excuse like a million times already about pretty much everything from Halloween to them coming over to dinner to being allowed to hold them if you so much as had to blow your nose.

"Well, you better pick some Christmas thing to come to or you're pretty much gonna hurt everyone's feelings if that's your only excuse."

"We're going to the Field Members' Breakfast," she said.

And he looked at her. "And you should come on the stupid Polar Express thing."

"And when you sell it like that I definitely want to come," she raised any eyebrow at him again.

He sighed at her. "Please don't make me go alone on it with Olive and Henry. You know they will both be total spazes about it and Dad is gonna basically be either Jack Frost or like Bumble only he'll need something removed for his ass rather than like a tooth pulled."

She smiled for that too but gave him this like apologetic but also tellin' him off, way it's gonna be look. "It's flu season. It's getting cold. It's going to be too crowded and they're way too little to be on CTA's sardine can Sanata Train."

"It's not that," he quickly interjected. And she looked at him. "It's not," he argued. "It's like an actual thing. Like a stupid, lame thing. But it's like the Polar Express. From Union. To the North Pole."

"Ah …" Now she was looking at him like he was the spaz.

"Erin, for serious," he said. "Please. It's like a thing. Like I think the FoP bought out like a whole train for it or something. Dad got tickets for all of us cuz of H. And you know he'll hold onto them like basically until the day off in case you change your mind. And then he'll just gave them to like someone for free so they can take their kids or whatever. You know that will be what he does and you know he'll be hoping you guys come. So please. Just come."

She sighed at him. "I'll think about. And I'll talk to Jay about it."

"Thank you," he puffed up.

"But don't hold your breath, Eth," she said. "I think they're still pretty little for whatever this … thing … is."

He deflated a bit.

"But, if we're going to talk about trains …"

And he puffed back up and looked at her expectantly. But the eyebrow cock told him to expect to be let down.

"Does that hobby store you go to with Dad have model trains?"

He squinted at her hard for that and she made some kinda gesture with her Teddy Graham. She seemed much more interested in eating now.

"Jay keeps talking about some train set his grandfather had and would put it on a track under his Christmas tree every year. I've been thinking of maybe getting him – or the twins – one. For Christmas."

"Can't you just Google that," Ethan said.

She shrugged and kept eating. That was more Erin like. "I did. But I'd either have to take out a loan to afford one or order something from Factory Number Five in China that won't likely make it around the track more than five times. And I don't know what I'm looking at."

Ethan just looked at her. "I think Jay will want to go on the Polar Express," he put flatly.

She just shrugged at him. So he dug out his phone.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

And he shrugged at her. It didn't work. She reached across the table and yanked the phone from his hand. She gazed at the text and then clearly deleted it. He reached to grab it back but she pulled it closer.

"Confiscated," she said, still chewing. "No phones at the table."

"There," he said. "You sound like Dad again."

But she just mumbled something under her breath that he couldn't understand. And he just stared at her until she shoved it into her coat pocket and pretty out of reach unless he got up. And he wasn't nearly that motivated. He could text Jay later.

"You should get the Lego Christmas train," he said instead.

But Erin shook her head. "No. It's like a model train that goes around the track."

"Yea," Ethan said. "It will. There's like a model train that you build and you put the motor it and it comes with track. And you can even buy like Santa's workshop and the train station and like basically Christmas village stuff."

She made a face. "That's likely reaching a level of tacky we can't have in the house."

He made a face right back. "You have lots of tacky stuff in your house," he contended. Like Erin liked weird stuff to begin with and like there'd been a whole lot of tacky baby stuff added since the twins. "And you basically can't have a train on a track in your house anyway. Have you learned nothing with Henry."

She gave him a smile and picked some more at her croissant.

"A Lego train would be more durable," Ethan said. "After it's put together. And there's the whole putting it together part." She gave him another look and he shrugged a bit. "I just really liked when Jay was doing the Lego builds with me like once a month. You know, it felt … special. And like he wanted to spend time with me and all that. And you know, it's like the same thing with Dad. Like having a project to do with him. I like that."

He really did. It was like he sorta had it figured out with Dad. Like he knew that Dad basically being on his ass about homework and taking him to doctor's appointments and basically just being Dad with his rules was his love language. And he was starting to get a whole lot more this past year that like it was hard for Dad to sorta find time for everything. To like be a Dad and a cop and grandpa and all of that. That basically he couldn't show up for everything and couldn't always be there. And like if you were just wanting time sometimes he didn't have time. But if you like defined the time you wanted – if it was a project – like Dad showed up. It was like he got super invested in it and you in this kinda different way. Like it felt different. And the time felt different. And Ethan liked that.

Sometimes he felt like he'd figured stuff out about Dad that maybe Justin hadn't. Sometimes he kinda felt like he knew Dad differently than Erin too. Or different things about him. But he also got that like things had been different for J and for Erin too. And Dad was probably different too. He knew enough for himself that things had happened that changed Dad. He'd seen how that kinda stuff changed Dad. Or at least brought out like different parts of him.

Sometimes he didn't really like those parts. So maybe that's kinda why he did his part. In like trying to like keep Dad together. And keep the family together. In this new different in everything.

"And speaking of projects with Dad," she said. "How's my Christmas request going?"

He gave her a glare. "We don't make Christmas requests in our family."

She allowed a little shrug. "I remember someone requesting a waffle maker."

"That no one gave me," he said.

"It was a pretty dumb request."

"And so is yours," Ethan contended.

She shook her head. "I think it's kind of an 'it's only fair' sibling request," she said and then took a bite of her food. "You made Henry a toy box."

"They're babies," he argued. "They don't need toy boxes yet."

She nodded at him. "You've seen my living room. We need toy boxes."

He huffed at her. "You'll get what you get," he said. "That's how it works."

She smiled at him. "But don't you want to keep up the tradition," she said.

He gave her a minor growl. "Maybe it'd be a good tradition for Jay and you guys to put together a Lego train with EJ and Tilly."

She gave him this little smile. It was definitely genuine. But she still teased him next with, "So you're telling me what you really want to do after breakfast is go to the Lego Store?"

He gave a sigh. Sometimes Erin sassed too much. But maybe he was also getting that it was like her defense mechanism. And he also got like they all needed to figure out their own way to survive and not like tip into the abyss.

But he just looked at her. "I actually kinda had another idea," he said.

"Yeah. What's that?" she muttered. She was back to eating.

Ethan fidgeted a bit. "You know how you signed that paperwork to make you like my real 'official' sister or like guardian or whatever?"

He hated that title thing. Like some lawyers had to tell him she was his real sister. It was so fucking stupid. She'd always been his sister. And she'd been there even more and longer than Dad - when Dad was in jail or lock-up or detention or whatever he wanted to call it to try to make it sound better about that other time when everything had gone to shit and off the rails.

Erin was his real sister. Even now. Or maybe more now. Since the babies. Cuz it made him an uncle and he didn't need some fucking lawyer to tell him who he was to the twins. Prolly like Erin didn't need some stupid lawyer saying she was his sister. Though, he guessed she did or musta. But he thought some of that had more to do with him. And her being there for him. When Dad couldn't be.

She squinted at him now. "What's going on?" There was an edge again.

"Well it means you can like be the one telling doctors it's 'kay to do treatment at the hospital, right?"

"Ethan," she pressed much more hard. "What's wrong?"

He stared at her but then knocked his chair back a bit. And he pulled up the one side of his shirt and the waist of his pants. She stared at him for a second but then leaned around the table. And her mouth fell. Like all out surprise.

"Did someone do that to you?" she demanded. And her chair was getting pulled out and closer so she could look at the bruise. She reached to touch it but he jerked away.

"No," he muttered. "I don't think so."

"Meaning?" she demanded harder. Her eyes were hard on him.

"Well, I guess I get pushed into lockers a lot, so maybe—"

"Ethan," she huffed and then mumbled something about 'little assholes'.

"It would've just made it worse. I think it's the new meds that's actually doing it this bad. It's like all down my leg."

She stared at him and reached to tug down the waist of his pants a bit more.

"Erin," he huffed. "Public." Even though she was basically just staring at his hip and thigh — it was enough that his ass cheek was getting pretty close to full-on hanging out in the wind, which was just not cool.

But she still was staring at it. "Dad's not worried about this?"

"He hasn't seen it."

"How can he not see this?" she muttered and she glanced up at the lighting in there like all the '80's fluorescents were somehow maybe making it worse.

But there was this touch of annoyance in her voice. Like maybe she kinda got how sad and angry and distracted Dad was all the time now. And how he went on walkabouts more and more. Especially on the nights and days where basically he wasn't gonna be seeing Henry or the twins. Or Olive or Erin. Cuz maybe they'd call him on all of it better than Ethan could. Cuz they just fought when he did and he never won. He wasn't sure he knew how.

And maybe sometimes he didn't want to win. And maybe sometimes he just wanted his sister. And for her to be the one who dealt with some of this stuff. Cuz maybe Erin had always dealt with some of it better or different. In a way that wasn't Dad. So maybe that helped Dad too. To not have to Dad so much. All the time. Times like this. When Dad wasn't Dad anymore in the same way either.

"It's the weekly auto-inject," Ethan said. "I basically do all of them on my own. And I stopped asking him for help even when he's around. … When it started to kinda look like this."

"Ethan," she sighed at him and sat up rubbing at her face a bit the same way Dad did when he got all exasperated with him and was trying to not lose his temper. "You've got to tell your dad about this kind of thing. And the pharmacist. And your doctors. Someone."

"I just told you …"

"Ethan," she pressed harder. "This is something Dad needs to know."

But he just gave her a weak look and a little shrug. "Erin, sometimes it's like … I don't know. He's like just kinda barely holding on right now. And I don't want something of my stuff to be what makes him lose his grip."

And she stared back at him. And her face got real sad too. Like she knew and she got it. Like she understood and had been there even if she wasn't there right now.

And she reached up and touched his face. In this like way she hadn't in a long time. Maybe not since she seemed so frazzled and scattered and tired and stressed with the twins. And it felt nice. Like it felt like there was something there from before. Still.

"Finish your breakfast," she said. "And we'll go over to Med."

"Just what you wanna do for your big first day out outing ..." he whispered and gave her a glance.

Her hand stayed on his face. She kept looking at him. Really at him. "It's okay," she said and she actually didn't sound mad. "I'll still be spending it with you. That's what I wanted today."

He allowed a little nod and tried to let himself believe that and feel that. But he mostly just stared at his breakfast until she moved her chair back over and sat more staring at him than her food. He bet she wasn't going to finish eating now.

"Are you gonna tell Dad?"

"Yes." It was complete flatline. There wasn't a room for a follow-up.

But there was.

"Will now?"

And he got the Voldemort look. He wondered if that look would work as well on EJ and Tilly as Dad had pulled off with all of them. That would definitely suck for them. Hopefully Erin's face didn't get stuck in that look as bad as Dad's had.

"Can we still go to the Lego Store first," he asked. And that look got worse but he pressed on. "Cuz I think your train idea. Like it's something everyone could look forward to. And work on. And maybe … we need that … focus point. Or whatever. I do. ... with you guys. You and Jay and EJ and Tilly."

And she gave him a weak smile and only said again, "Finish eating, Eth."

And that was his big sister. Always bossing him around and telling him what to do. Always.


	14. Pieces

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Erin came down the stairs from her momentary shower refuge. For all Jay had gone on about the 'importance of the Throne Room' in selecting a dwelling, it was only her who seemed to bother to make the trek all the way up to the master en suite these days.

Part of it was that she just couldn't deal with having to navigate around all the baby gear that had also taken up residence in the second floor bathroom. For all the lip Jay gave her too on the kind of number she did in a bathroom – it was pretty clear that just like every other room in the stacked-town, the twins did a bigger number. It was already pretty clear that they'd be living in a tornado disaster zone for at least the next eighteen years. At least it was clear to her. Jay's tolerance of it swayed with his level of exhaustion – or how much life, casework, family, relations, babies, and triggers were keeping him up at all hours in a particular week. But the kinds of things he focused on cleaning and tidying didn't fall in the same realm as her. If everything got thrown in the laundry baskets and bins to reveal floor space, she pretty much felt that she'd accomplished temporarily cleaning the main floor of the house. Jay would be more likely to end up lining up shoes, and putting the baby's stuff in very specific places, in very specific orders (which drove her fucking nuts if she was the one trying to find it next because it wasn't in the middle of the fucking coffee table where it'd been rather purposely left for easy access).

Jay was so much more like Hank than he wanted to admit. And maybe more than she wanted to admit too. She'd procreated with some kind of mirror image of the guy who raised her. And she was waiting for him to get over … himself and her mistakes … and get on with marrying her. And putting an end to them playing house – now that they were very officially not playing anymore. She didn't know what that said about her. She'd become that stereotype. Some how. Some way. And that was a little scary.

Scarier was that it'd occurred to her that maybe she was becoming Camille. Though, she'd take that option over becoming Bunny any day of the way. Camille and her bathroom refuge. And her long baths, which she claimed were because as much as she liked fish – and Lake Michigan – she didn't feel the need to smell like either. But Erin was pretty sure she was actually just escaping the hellions she was surrounded by for as long as she reasonable could.

She'd remembered recently overhearing Camille and Hank talking in the kitchen one night. It wasn't a private conversation. They were likely just giving each other the rundown of their days. But it must've been a particularly exasperating one for Camille. Because Erin remembered her saying, 'Henry (and she rarely called Hank 'Henry' unless he was deep into the doghouse or you'd walked in on an overly intimate moment between them), I live in a madhouse run by a tiny army that we went and made ourselves.'

Erin had laughed when she'd remembered it. Laughed – alone with the babies – until she almost wanted to cry. Because she knew that she'd gone and done the same thing. And that some days she felt like that already. And she still had years and years and years more of it to look forward to. Pregnancy – babies – it was definitely a one-time thing. They'd gotten a twofer. She wasn't ever going to risk adding to this army of two.

At least she did have the bathroom to escape upstairs to. Camille hadn't. She was stuck in the one bathroom with them banging on the door still bugging her with random crap. When's dinner. Can I borrow the car. Where are the keys. I'm going out. The phone's ringing. Stupid stuff. And Erin was sure she'd had years of just being walked in on too with the lack of locks on doors in that house. She'd seen for a fact that Ethan when he was litte – but big enough to get up the stairs and reach the doorknob – didn't hesitate to follow after his mom and stare at her while she was just trying to take a pee break. Erin had been victim of that too more than once. And brothers who decided they need to brush their teeth, take a leak (to flush the toilet just to change the water temperature on you), and cake their hair with product while she was in the shower too. And she hadn't even considered that again before but realized now that she was going to be going through it again at the next level. The next, next level because she was going to have the twin tag-teaming her. As it was they already seemed to decide the moment her bowels finally decided to let her take a shit in her post-pregnancy body that clearly was never going to co-operate or function the same way ever again – it was always an excellent time to wake up and start wailing like they were starving again.

She was so screwed. And you had to try to laugh about it. Or she thought she might just cry. More than she already was. And she hated being that girl too. Which was probably why she took the time to go all the way up to their own bedroom and their own master. And had a shower any chance she got. Usually a long one. Even though they didn't have the whatever and the whatever that Jay had previously thought were a bathroom necessity. Now she was thinking that he might've had a point. Dual steamheads might be really nice at this point. But she was having to settle for the walk-in shower and the tub that wasn't really made for soaking. But at least it was all upstairs – up, up stairs – and out of sight (if not out of ear shot) for a bit. To force herself – remind herself – that she was still her. She wasn't just 'mom'. Which right now really just felt like a bottle cleaner, feeder, diaper changer, and laundry attendee more than the 'mom' stuff that she wanted to look forward to. But that she wouldn't likely get to until the twins were a bit more than babbling, wailing, pooping babies.

At least they were starting to get a bit more fun. A bit more interesting. You were starting to see more and more hints of what their little personalities might grow to be. They were starting to show more interest in things around them. They were starting to 'play' in the way that babies play. They way they looked at her and Jay and interacted with them was different. The babbles and coos and sounds and smiles and giggles. The way Eli and Mattie interacted more and more with each other.

And maybe that all just hinted too that everything was going to go too fast. And they were going to be screwed in whole new and different ways.

Though, maybe you sort of lived for that. Because as she came down the stairs and saw Jay leaning against the door looking into the bedroom where they'd managed to get the twins down – finally – her heart skipped a beat.

"What's wrong?" she whispered at him urgently.

But he only gave her a glance and shook his head. "Nothing," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him but came to the doorway and leaned in it too. The babies were both still asleep. And their dad was just standing there staring at them. She gave him a small smile at that and leaned into him a bit. Jay brought his arm up around her and held her there while she stared with him.

It was strange how much time you could just watch them sleep. Just stare at them in general.

"EJ was making some sounds on the monitor," Jay said. "I just came up …"

Erin smiled a little at that too. "You're so screwed," she muttered against his chest.

And he was. But Jay knew it too. He was completely smitten with both the twins. She could tell already that Mattie was going to have him tied around her little finger. And EJ … they were going to have to work at keeping Jay from helicoptering too much. Eventually. She wasn't sure when they had that conversation and where they drew that line. Because it was complicated and pulled in too much baggage. What Jay had been through with his father. And what their tiny, fragile little boy had been through in his first days and weeks and months – and what they still had to pull him through on the way of getting him as healthy as he could be. But it was clear that Eli wasn't ever going to be left wondering where his dad was or thinking Jay wasn't there for him. He was going to be the over-protective dad to both of them. In different ways, she thought. But very real and intense.

"It's still so weird," he said to her. Maybe. Or maybe he was just throwing it out there into the room.

"What is?"

He just shook his head and kept staring at the sleeping babies. "Them," he said and then gazed at her before turning back to the twins. "We made them."

Erin made a small amused sound at that. "Maybe it's a good thing Eth doesn't need your help with his biology homework." He gave her a small look at that. But she gave him a smile. "We made them. Not so weird."

"It's a little weird that there's these pieces of us just outside in the world," he said. "Outside of us."

"The good parts, I hope," she said. It was a joke. But she really hope. She still hoped every day that they gave them all the good parts. And that even now she'd find a way to make sure they were always getting all the good parts she had to offer. Of herself and of life and the world. Even though she already knew she was failing at parts of that. That life and reality hadn't let that be a possibility for her kids. And she shouldn't have really expected it to. She hadn't. But she'd hoped. And she was still hoping – and trying and working at it now. And she knew she would have to figure out a way to do that – to keep all of that in perspective and focus and balance – for the rest of her life. So they could have their lives. Their best lives that she could manage to offer them within their circumstances.

"Well, at least rugged good looks and razor sharp minds," he told her with that wryly smirk of his.

"Are you sure?" she put back to him. "I'm told that's rare."

Jay smiled a bit more. "It is," he agreed and gestured into the room. "But when it comes together …"

"Mmm," Erin allowed. "Twofer."

"Weirdly, amazing twofer …"

And she stared at them again with him.

Another cliché. But she'd heard people say it. That after you have kids it's like your heart is living outside your body. And she'd appreciated what people were trying to express but she'd always felt like they were over-dramatizing it a bit. But they weren't.

Her babies being in NICU – that saying and attempt at expression – hadn't been enough. It didn't come close to capturing what it felt like spending all that time in that ward and seeing her babies on all that equipment and sick and being poked and prodded. Having them go through tests and Eli through surgeries – when they were that little. To see them scream and cry with all of it. When they were – are – so small. And so fragile. And there's nothing you can do beyond watch them be stabbed and poked and broken all over and over again.

And then you get to bring them home – with still all these question marks about their health and their development and their life and their future. And it suddenly just shifts your priorities. More than you thought having children or being a mother would shift them. It's just this completely different frame of mind and state of being. And she still didn't know how to find words to express it. There probably weren't.

So maybe Jay's assessment that it was "still so weird" was pretty much as close as they could manage to get. She couldn't think of anything much better.

"It's confusing too," he mumbled.

"You're right," she allowed. "Mattie might not appreciate being told she has razor good looks by the time she's a teenager."

She felt him smile a bit against her hair somewhere at that. But even there she could feel some sadness radiating off it and she shifted her head to look up at him.

"It just makes it harder to understand some of the cases we end up dealing with," he said.

But she knew even though that was true, it wasn't what he meant. It wasn't really what he was thinking.

"And my mom being the way she is," she added for him. "Your dad being the way he is."

And those eyes stared at her until he turned away with a quiet, "Yea. That too."

She leaned into him closer and wrapped her own arm around him tighter. "Some people aren't meant to be parents," she said.

"And like we are …," he mumbled.

And she just held into him a bit more. "Yeah," she said. "I'm pretty sure we are."


	15. Loaded Down

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Hank yanked open the front door and gave Jay a bit of a once over before giving a smack. Been expecting him – Halstead likely didn't know that, but Erin had texted a vague message that with some reading between the lines had been pretty clear she was either looking for a break from the baby Jay had in tow or specifically of from Jay.

Suspected it was more from Jay.

If it was the babies who were driving her nuts – would've likely been a more direct call and message. And two babies at his doorstep. Not Jay standing there in runner gear, fucking giant used jogging stroller taking up most of the sidewalk up to his house, and a baby buried somewhere in the covered up bucket car seat he was toting.

Wasn't too thrilled about potentially being monkey in the middle for business that he didn't want any part of. But sort of was what it was. Block out that part of it. Focus on the father and grandfather aspect for Erin and the babies.

"Think were passed knocking on the door," Hank said. "Got a key. Use it." Jay didn't respond to that. But Hank didn't give a chance. Reached for his grandkid. "Who've we got?"

Actually let him take it without putting up a fight and he lugged the thing in the door. Didn't bother to hold it for Jay. Could manage that himself. Was busy pulling the cover off the seat to see which of his grandkids he was getting that afternoon.

"It's Mattie," Jay told him. Hadn't needed to at that point. Could already see the little girl looking up at him all bright-eyed. Jay was lucky she wasn't screaming bloody murder tucked in under the covering. But maybe she'd just woken up.

"Hey there, Tilly," he graveled at her, giving the back of his index finger a run down her cheek. Gave him a little gurgle too. "Decided you wanted some time at Popa's today, huh?"

He was already dragging her down the hall. Leaving Jay to get his fucking runners off before he dragged dirt and grass clipping and leaves all over the house. But still didn't stop the guy from calling down the hall after him.

"We're actually just picking up … whatever it is you've got for Erin," Jay called but then muttered. "I wasn't too clear on the details."

Hank grunted at that and gave him a glance back down the hall. Pain in the ass. Jay clearly had been pushed out the door – politely. Or as polite as Erin – or any wife and mother ever was when you'd managed to annoy the fuck out of them but hadn't yet quite crossed over into completely pissing them off. But maybe Jay didn't have enough experience in the whole family and spousal-like relationship realm to realize that was what had just happened. Likely also meant he hadn't learned to note the tone and the look (and do a quick assessment of the lead up – which could be several days worth of you pissing the shit out of her) to figure out if you getting kicked out of her sight for a bit was a blessing to just get the fuck out of her hair and for you to take advantage of an hour or two of your own time (which you sure didn't get a whole lot of after you were mixing the job with raising a family) or if she was actually passively aggressively kicking you up to do something you hadn't yet done that she'd been indirectly telling you you were supposed to be doing for probably a week or more before she pushed you out the door. And even if that wasn't the case, also had to read the situation to figure out if the potential your own time should actually be being used to go to the hardware store or to run some errands or to fill and gas the car or something a hell of a lot more useful and important things than going to get a drink with the boys and play some hands of cards or stare at the Bears on the screen for a few downs.

Didn't think Jay had clued in entirely. Though the tone and mutter hinted that he at least had an idea that that he hadn't exactly been told to go for a run and to pick up something over there while he was out.

Hank wasn't sure he was even going to bother to pretend that he had something there waiting for Erin. Send the guy home empty-handed and maybe he'd realize he should take another couple beats – and likely figure out something to take home on his own. Or he'd just do the usual – hand him some container of frozen leftovers from the freezer. But Jay was a bright guy. He'd know that there wouldn't be much waiting for him to pick up at the house that would've made any kind of sense for him to be loading into a stroller.

And tone said he at least realized that.

Hank propped Tilly up on the dining table and smiled down at her, reaching to get all the straps and blankets pulled away. Jay made a face at him doing that as he caught up. Clearly thought he was getting out of there in two minutes flat. But wasn't going to be the case.

Tilly smiled and giggled at him some more as he drew her up to him. "There's my girl," he said. But he wrinkled his brow along with his nose as she settled her ass against the crock of his arm – and he felt the squish.

He gave that pudgy cheek another little poke. "Typhoon Tilly," he gave her a tease.

And she loved it. Grinned at him even more. Knew his granddaughter had gotten her daddy's eyes – but that smile. That was all Erin. Lit up a room when she did it. Was going to be a whole lot of trouble for her parents that one. String of broken hearts. Likely starting well before she was fifteen. Knew she was working on pulling on the heart strings of her whole family already with those looks and giggles she had down.

"Yea," Jay sighed a bit and plopped the diaper bag on the table, reaching out for her some. "I thought she might need a change. Kept getting whiffs on our run."

Hank just turned away from him though. Still bouncing his granddaughter a bit in his arm. Knew that would be making a bigger mess but she didn't seem too bothered by it.

"I've got it," he said. He reached and massaged at her ear. Didn't need her falling asleep on him. But wouldn't mind having his grandbaby cuddle right in. And she did just that. Gave him a real contented sigh as she did it too. Her dad might be wanting to get in and out of there real quick, but Hank knew his granddaughter would be just as happy to settle down with him on the couch for the afternoon. Give Bear some whacks on the nose when he decided he wanted to check her out. And shriek a bit with that laugh of hers at her uncle to try to get his attention and make him play silly with her. Sounded like an okay afternoon to him.

Guess Jay didn't think so, though. Still. Gave him that look again. The disagreement but the way too tired to bother putting up any kind of fight. Good. For all of them.

The guy gazed into the kitchen. "Hey, Eth …," he greeted.

E glanced at him from where Hank had left him in trying to plow through some of the endless pile of homework Ignatius was sending home with him this academic year. Felt more nights than not they were just trying to bury the kid under the workload. Neither him nor E were able to keep up. Wouldn't matter how much or how hard he pushed his kid – it was just too much. Going to be working through the whole year at a deficit. Just the way it was going to be. Needed to accept it.

"I'd come say hi," E said, "but Tilly's swamp diaper is even worse than the stench Erin leaves in a bathroom."

"We should likely keep both parts of that statement to ourselves," Jay muttered again. He looked back at Hank. And his daughter. "Smells good in here though."

Hank grunted. "Gumbo," he said and gestured into the kitchen. "Blackening up some trout to throw in."

"Wow …," Jay muttered and gazed back in at E. "So you hooked some this morning?"

"They were biting good," E said. Whole lot of pride in that statement. But they'd had a good morning.

Up and out there at an ungodly hour. But might as well. Didn't think him or E did a whole lot of sleeping anymore. Sometimes he suspected he was doing a whole lot less with his sick kid at home – and his own demons – than Jay and Erin were doing even with these two kiddos. Better to get up and out there. Distract E from the pain. Let him do something he enjoyed. Just spend time together. So fucking important.

Hank reached and started unzipping the diaper one-handed. Adjusted his granddaughter a bit. Her little hand grasping and ungrasping at the collar of his shirt. That little sound she made with her breathing. Both the babies did. Little catch and wheeze to it. Erin told him that the docs said it was okay. The kids' lungs were where they needed to be and doing what they needed to do. But he always quietly noted it when he heard it when he was holding them. Calculated it more as they were getting into cold and flu season and these little guys had to battle through that for their first time around while they were still working on the uphill battle they'd had since their birth. Wasn't quite on the same hypochondriac level about it as Jay and Erin seemed to be – but still made his observations.

Though, also did a whole lot of measuring it against the way he remembered Erin's breathing and lungs sounding when she'd come on home as a teen. When she reached the point she was actually comfortable enough to sit with him on the same couch – to accept and look for some physical affection. To curl up and watch a show or a movie with the rest of the family. With J.

All those fucking flops houses Bunny had had her in. Dust and dirt and god knows whatelse. Drugs. Solvents. Cigarette smoke. Bongs and pot. And entire childhood breathing in all that crap. If Erin hadn't been born with asthma, Bunny had sure set her up to have a life with crap lungs too. Chronic bronchitis when she'd first come home. Strep throat. And those were some of the easier things they had to work through. Got her diagnosed with asthma and on the puffers. Learning to control it. Some scary nights in the hospital with her too – when she pushed the limits and turned back to habits she should've turned her back on, even the tamer ones to try to fit in. Sitting in the ER with Erin on the oxygen mask until her lungs started to co-operate some.

Even her coming out of high school they hadn't fully gotten her breathing under control. There'd been a period where he wasn't sure that she'd get it under control enough that she'd make it through the physical and all the fitness testing at the Academy to end up on the job. But she'd done better with it as she got older. More mature. More aware of her triggers and limits in that.

Supposed it helped he'd quit it with the smoking too. Erin's asthma – and career hopes - had been some added motivation to when Camille had laid down the law about quitting before E arrived. It was already a sticking point that wasn't doing anything for anyone's health in the house even before the baby. Supposed it wasn't doing much for anyone now. E and Erin at him. Sometimes worse than Camille. Another thing Camille would've kicked him out of the house for.

He was trying, though. Wasn't a crutch or habit that he needed to be turning back to either. But had. They all had their banana peels. Sometimes shit just happens that makes it real hard to not be slipping on them.

But was aware that him, his clothes and the house couldn't be smelling like any of that shit with the twins. Shouldn't be with E's health either. Also real aware in measuring their breathing and remembering what Erin's lungs had sounded like when she was younger and sickly. Weighing what was sickly for a preemie versus what might be them just having been unlucky enough to inherit some of their mom's shit lungs.

Right now, though, actually thought Tilly was thinking some about maybe taking a bit of a nap. Doing some slowed down, heavy sighs and breathing while she thought about it. And her deciding she wanted some shut-eye - that wouldn't be too bad either.

"Should stay," Hank rasped. "Gonna put the Cubbies on in a bit. Shoot off a note to Erin, tell her and Eli to head over closer to chow."

"Olive and Henry are coming," E provided.

"Yea-", Jay worked on forming some other excuse.

"Olive's bringing some Halloween decorations. Since Dad puts zero effort into being festive."

Hank grunted at that. Didn't see the point of decorating for every fucking season. Especially Halloween. Pretty much drawing extra attention to your property to get little assholes in the neighborhood thinking they were little thugs by being jagoffs about the vandalism.

Could think of a whole lot better things to be spending time and money on.

Dealing with getting Christmas decorations up and down was enough.

Dealing with the leaves and getting the garden boxes covered up and bedded down before the snow flew.

That's all the yard work he needed in the fall. But apparently having grandkids had suddenly mandated that he needed to be 'festive' about something every fucking season of the year.

And Hank could only put up so much argument about it. Because he knew that if Camille was there there'd be a little extra and a little more happening around their house again. Actually, if Camille was there the bit the family did probably wouldn't have ever disappeared the way it had. E would've still been young enough she would've been still doing all that little extra for him by the time H arrived. And then she would've just kept on going right through all the grandkids' childhoods. That was just Camille. Wouldn't have gone overboard but a jack-o-lantern on the steps and some decorations in the window. Some wreath or kitsch on the front door.

So couldn't fault E or Olive too much for wanting the house to look the holiday. Camille would be smacking him if he did. He'd likely be being sent on the same kind of walkabout that Jay was on if he put up too much of a fuss.

"Could use some backup when I've got the three of them bossing me around about where to put the cobwebs," Hank nodded at Jay. Least he hoped Olive was keeping it that simple. Shouldn't be spending cash on too much foolishness. But H seemed real hyped about Halloween this year, so that seemed to be getting Olive hyped up some of her own too.

And let her. Enjoy your kids while they're young. While they're there and in your life. Grow up too fast. It's all just gone real fast. Things change real fast.

"And maybe you can tell him that pop and Smarties aren't prime Halloween candy while you're at it," Ethan called over again.

"That's what we've always handed out," Hank graveled at his kid. "Your brother didn't have any problems with it."

"Only 'cuz you and mom basically never let pop be in the house any other time of year," E grumbled at him. "You know how much that weighs to be carrying around?"

"No kid's got the need to be going more than a block or two any way," Hank nodded at him.

"Do you want me to show you what you can do with pop and Smarties," Ethan pressed again.

"Not unless you want to be the one cleaning it up," Hank smacked.

Knew full well the kind of volcano it created. Pretty much had been a post-Halloween activity in the house when Cami the scientist had been around. Get the kids educated in that kind of stuff young.

He'd likely let E demonstrate to his nephew on Halloween too. But he could also do the cleaning up the mess then too.

Ethan huffed at him and looked at Jay. "Tell him to get go and get some mini candy bars like every other house ever. Or chips."

Hank swayed his grandbaby a bit. "You aren't gonna bust my balls like the rest of them when you get big, are ya little girl?"

"Tilly's definitely not gonna want Smarties, Dad," E said. "It's like the worst candy ever."

"Good thing your diet doesn't let you eat any of it then," Hank smacked at him and rubbed Tilly's back.

Jay shrugged and looked in at E. "I liked getting cans of Coke too."

And that got a bigger huff out of Ethan. But Jay clearly didn't care for the conversation and was looking to get out of there. He reached for the diaper bag and rooted around on his own to get out the supplies.

Hank glared at him. Wasn't taking the hints he was giving either. So about to be done with the hints. He didn't have time for the bullshit anyway.

"Remember much from tenth grade geometry?" he put to him. Jay gave him a glance. But Hank only looked over to E. "Magoo, go grab that worksheet that had us all turned around the other night."

E actually seemed pleased by that prospect. Up and on the go. "It's circles and arcs and tangles or something," he said to Jay as he went by. "But it's drawing all these triangles. It's screwed up."

"Ah …," Jay managed but didn't tell E that he was looking to get out the door too. Just watched him make it to the stairs and Hank listened to him start up them.

Then he turned back to Jay. "You're going to want to just pull up a chair and ride out the afternoon here," he said.

Jay gave him a look. Face shifted and changed. "You don't know the whole story," he said with a tone that was growing pissed.

Hank held at his granddaughter and shrugged a bit. "I don't," he agreed. "And I don't care. But Erin sent you here. To get a break from whatever you two are going on about. So sit down and cool down – until you're both ready to drop it."

Jay just reached out for Tilly again. Hands nearly got under her armpits that time but Hank took a step back and snagged up the change pad, wipes and diaper Jay'd dug from the bag.

"I've got it, Jay," he said and moved to take his granddaughter to the office space that Erin had seemed to have adopted as a change room when they were over. He dropped the items onto the storage unit and worked at adjusting Tilly Girl so he could get them both down on the ground, giving Jay another look.

"Jay," he said bluntly. "I don't mind doing the grandfather thing. I like doing it. But I'd like it a whole lot better if none of us were playing at it. I don't like playing house."

Steam might as well have started coming out of the guy's ears at that. Arms got crossed. Mouth dropped a bit like he was starting and stopping himself from getting right back into it with him.

But Hank just got the change pad down and it under Tilly. Worked at getting off the outfit that he wondered if Jay or Erin had tossed her into. Sometimes it looked like neither of them were in the least aware of what they were putting on their kids. And definitely weren't trying to do twin matchy-matchy crap about any time. Or even trying to splash them up in "boy" or "girl" clothes. Seemed like it was more of a whatever was clean situation.

There was something Camille would've worked on too. Knew that any extra cash around at the end of each month likely would've gone toward the grandkids. Outfitting them and spoiling them. She would've taken some real joy in getting to pick out baby stuff for a little boy and a little girl at the same time. Would've had a whole lot of fun getting to shop in the baby girl section and taking Erin out to pick some stuff.

The two of them. Such tom-boys. But knew if you got them together in that section they would've come home with some frilly little dresses and at least a bit of pink stuff for Tilly. Not whatever the hell this was.

He was actually pretty sure this was a hand-me-down he'd seen Henry in a couple years ago. Which was fine. But also thought his granddaughter could do with a couple outfits that looked a little more girlie. She was going to have a whole lot of time to decide on her own if she wanted to be all blue jeans and tshirts and flannels like her cousin and uncle and parents.

"You can only punish her for so long," Hank muttered, as he adjusted Tilly's kicking little legs.

"I'm not punishing anyone," Jay spat back at him.

Hank looked over at him. And smacked.

"You know how I feel about you," he said. "You know how I feel about you being a part of this family. So be a part of the family, Jay."

Arms only got tighter and Hank looked back to Tilly. Got out the wipes and got the diaper off. Got to the cleaning routine that he'd pretty much figured out with her. But had definitely decided he'd lucked out with boys. Girls – daughters, granddaughters - a pain in your ass from the get. Always worrying you're going to do something to hurt them or fuck things up for them. And they know it too. The way they look at you. And the way they smile. And the way she just wasn't keeping still to make any of this any easier.

"Erin ever tell you how many times Bunny came looking for her after we took her in?" he asked.

Jay shrugged a bit. Could tell he was about to spout something about that being Erin's business. And it was, he was right. But Hank didn't give him a chance to say that.

"Twice," Hank rasped and found Jay's eyes hard. "In ten years. And both times she was coming down off of smack. Me and Camille – we didn't let Bunny near her."

Jay shrugged – least he tried to – like he was indifferent to that information.

So Hank grilled into him a bit more. "I know she hurt you," he said. "I know all that happened – it's hard to get over. To put it behind you completely. I get that's something you two will have to work on fixing likely for a whole lot of years. Maybe your whole relationship. But if you're holding off on getting that ring on her finger because you think she might up and leave you and the twins – she won't. She's been there. She knows what it was like. What it did to her. And she won't do it to her kids. That's not her. You know that. I know that – as her father. As the guy who raised her – who did a whole lot of raising her – before I even got her over here."

He worked on snapping the onesie back up and pulling Tilly's pants back up those chubby legs that she was just kicking up a storm with. Swimmer or soccer player or kick-boxer they had there. Ass-kicker. Made sense given her mom.

And then he lifted her back up and took her back over to her dad, held her out to him.

"And nothing you do – no matter how long you put it off or how many conversations you tell her you need to have or whatever checklist you've made up for yourself or her in all this – no one, nothing, is going to punish her more about what happened, the decision she made then herself."

He touched at the back of Tilly's head. The fine, auburn strands she had growing there. Wasn't long enough or thick enough for him to give it those gentle, teasing tugs that his girl had liked – needed – so much in getting some attention and affection when she was a teen. Knowing she had someone there who had her back. Giving her support – whether she liked it or not.

"I know the kind of man you are, Jay," he looked him right in the eyes while Jay still stared at his girl. "I see the kind of father you are. So drop it. Move on. It will make it easier on all of you."

E was clattering back down the stairs. Calling out about analytical geometry and angles and all sorts of shit that Hank hoped a guy who'd done a lot of time in sniper's nests would be able to make heads or tails of. But not now.

"Here," he said, "Let me take her."

Tilly heard it – recognized the words – and reached toward him. And Jay let it happen. Let him take her back. For a moment.

"Erin's still got both of your guys changes of clothes up in her room," he said with a nod back toward the stairs. "Shower, change out. Give yourself some time to take a load off. And while you're doing it put the load down, Jay. Trust me. You'll be happier. You all will."


	16. Steps

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Erin smiled as she watched Jay trot down the secure stairs. He was glowing and he likely didn't even realize. He didn't because he raised an eyebrow at her look.

"Hey …?" he offered, as he pushed open the door to come down the last few steps where she was waiting with the stroller. And trying to avoid any more attention than she'd already gotten in getting help bringing the stroller up the steps into the District's main desk. And then the even more comments and oohh-and-ahhhing that Platt and some of the other burly Teddy Bears that occupied the front desk area gave to the babies. But she'd learned months ago that going anywhere when you had twins – and a double stroller – without attracting attention was pretty much impossible. It pretty much made you a walking target for unwanted attention. There was no way to operate undercover while dragging around this kind of gear and number of babies. But she'd at least stepped out of the line of fire rapid fire – and overly predictable – questions about the babies and all the unwanted affection (and germs) people wanted to bestow on them in getting in their faces and pulling down blankets and touching at cheeks and wiggling at fingers.

"Don't you look like the proud popa," she teased him, as he came down and did his own stoop down to look in on the babies. To do his own poking and prodding and stroking at their cheeks – that wasn't anywhere near being unwanted. She could hear the twins gurgling and giggling at getting site of him and hearing his quiet greetings. Even though the look she got was one that said he didn't like the tease much. "All excited to show off what he 'made'."

He gave her eyebrow. "I should be proud of that accomplishment. I clearly make good babies."

"Mmm …," Erin hummed at him. "I usually refrain from commenting on your baby-making skills at work."

"Keep it professional," Jay provided.

"Mmm …," she shook her head at him. "I just don't think you want word getting around about missteps and blunders that accompanied your baby-making skills in this specific baby-making incident."

"I'm a function man," he said. "Function accomplished."

"I was unaware that was the 'function' we were going for."

"I'm Catholic," he reminded. "Technically baby-making is the only function we should ever be going for."

Erin raised her eyebrow. "Lapsed Catholic and apparently have lapsed in your PBS membership too, because I'm pretty sure _functionally_ ," she gestured at her mid-section, "this was _technically_ supposed to only support one baby about ninety-five percent of the time."

He grinned at her. "I know how much you love a combo."

"Next time I'll just settle for an Italian beef," she muttered.

And that eyebrow went up at her again. "Exactly. That's what got us into this."

She opened her mouth and shook her head. There was some major confabulation. "You did not just say that," she said. "You are sadly mistaken if—"

But he smiled more – clearly getting the reaction he wanted in his barely veiled allusion with the Italian beef reference in a conversation about 'baby making'.

"You had me bring you Portillo's that weekend," he told her.

And she rolled her eyes. "Right. Cold, greasy, soggy, limp sausage and beef is a real Aphrodisiac." (And all those adjectives actually summed up some of the circumstances around that particular estimated night of conception pretty well.)

"Apparently," he said with an even prouder gesture at the babies and their pending show-and-tell.

He'd – the whole team – had been asking about this basically since they'd finally gotten Eli home. When were they going to bring them in. When were they going to get to see them – and not just pictures of them. Pictures that she knew Jay (and Hank) had on their phones. But that she also knew neither of them were the type to be pulling those out and flashing them around at work. Jay had even had a long, drawn out, self-doubting (and near one-sided) debate with her (that was really more with himself) about if he should or shouldn't take a picture in of the babies to have on his desk.

Erin knew where he was coming from. She'd grown up as a cop with Hank's rules too. And a lot of them made sense. That in the kind of work they did unwanted entities knowing too much about your personal life – and your family – was just opening you up to all kinds of liabilities. And ones that could cascade over and impact a whole lot more than just you and the job. For years Hank hadn't had anything on his desk or in his office that even gave a hint that he had a wife and kids at home. Though, anyone who knew him – knew. And anyone who wanted to could find out pretty easily. And they'd more than learned that the family could be found – and hurt – pretty easily too. They weren't living a life undercover. Bad people knew who Hank was. And the worst kind of people didn't hesitate to use his family as collateral in trying to hurt him. They had.

But at least no one knew what his family looked like unless they were running their own counter-intelligence and surveillance. Unless they'd gotten close enough to Hank that they'd eventually earned an invite over to the house for dinner or a barbecue. But those kinds of invitations were few and far between. They were near non-existent since he'd lost Camille. Since the family had been targeted – and hurt.

But with the loss upon loss they'd endured and now the added members to the family some photos had appeared in Hank's office and on his desk. Like he needed that anchor and stabilization on the job. And Erin knew he did. She saw it in him more. It was like he was trying to use them as that ending stake for when he was about to go off the leash. That just made having to go into his office and grab his coat – he'd see those photos – and it'd yank him back into place for a moment. To cool him down before he did something that made the situation worse.

They still didn't reveal much about the family. Artsy-fartsy shots Olive had taken of silhouettes and backs of people's heads and little dots in landscapes on camping trips or the beach or on the lake or at Jay's grandfather's cabin or what was turning into an annual family outing to Lake Geneva again that Hank picked up the bill for just to get everyone in the same place for more than an hour for Sunday dinner a couple times a month, if they were lucky. But it was enough to put on display he did have a family. He displayed the family that was already gone full frontal — his father, Camille, Justin, Al. But the rest still showed there were kids and small grandkids and dogs in his pictures – his life. And as much as maybe that was a liability – maybe it also helped him too.

But she understood where Jay was coming from. On the job and around Hank and from his time in the Rangers. Information you didn't want to share or people to know. Proof of life. But she also weighed it against how often Intelligence really had perps going through the bullpen – let alone sitting at their desks for any kind of interview. Not that that made a real difference. Lots of people walked through the bullpen at various points for various reasons. Everyone had wandering eyes. And you never knew who was seeing what or what exactly they might be looking for. Or what might some day be held against you. But could you really live if you worried about all that all the time?

It just went back to Jay's own insecurities about not being able to protect them – her and the twins – the way he wanted. Or the way he thought he needed to or should be. It didn't matter what she said about that. About how she could take care of herself (though, she appreciated his hand up sometimes). And that he was being a good father to the twins. He was taking care of them and protecting them and being there for them. He was a supporter and a provider in the family. It was fine.

But the twins arriving early and sick made accepting that they were 'good parents'. And that they were protecting and taking care of them the best ways they could harder to accept. To believe. When it pretty much felt like you'd failed them from the get. But that was their own baggage. And sometimes it was pretty clear it was a bigger trigger for Jay. Maybe because of what he'd been through in his own family. And maybe because he was the one who'd gone back to work and wasn't there nearly every second of the day dealing with the mundane day-to-day crap (quite literally) that was involved in taking care of babies.

Erin actually thought being home with the twins calmed her down a bit about some of that. Even though there were areas where she felt like she was failing pretty badly at being a mom. Or areas where she was realizing she just wasn't going to be 'that kind of mom'. She also knew that dealing with the day-in-day-out of taking care of the babies was slowly putting a lot of things into perspective for her. Even though all of it was challenging and draining and frustrating and emotional in ways she didn't know she could feel emotions (and in other ways she didn't particularly like feeling emotions). But it also added the perspective that the twins were okay. They had their challenges too – and always were going to. But they were being taken care of. And she knew that they were loved. Loved intensely by her and Jay. And loved and cared for by way more people than her or Jay had had in their lives growing up.

So she actually thought even if they weren't anywhere close to 'perfect' parents. Maybe they weren't even very good parents. But they were doing the best they could right now. And she didn't feel like they were failing them. Maybe she wished things had gone differently. But they hadn't. And they were dealing with the situation they had the best they could. And the other reality was the babies didn't know any different. This was all just normal to them. And maybe that wasn't fair. But life wasn't fair. Unfortunately they'd just gotten o figure that out from the get. But that wasn't a commentary on her or Jay's ability to protect or take care of them. It was just the fucking reality of them – and bad news.

But if Jay could have that long of vented, one-sided, self-doubt riddled debate about whether he wanted to take in a photograph to have on his desk – just imagine the kind of conversations and full-on talks in circles they'd had about the if and when they were ever going to bring the babies into District. Despite it being clear he wanted to — to show them to this family they had. That there was a necessity to that.

Erin had finally kind of made the decision for Jay. She could tell he wanted to – even though he didn't want to. And she'd basically framed it around this would be one-and-done. Everyone could see them and goo-and-gah at them. And then hopefully no one would bother them about it again for at least several months. Maybe they could get away with not putting them on this much of a display again until their first birthday (Which was another event she wasn't ready to think about. Another day on the calendar that would be harder than it should be for a day that in any other family would likely be a celebration. Instead it was going to be another one in their family where they were going to have to put on happy faces to try to make their frowns. To try to grieve while not marring the day for little people who didn't understand. To weigh whether marking their birthday anywhere near Al's death day would be a good distraction for everyone or just make the day that much harder and worse with where everyone who they might even consider inviting would be.). And even better – they could use it as a way to deter one-off visits to the townhouse. Because she really didn't want to play host multiple times to one or two of everyone coming over (and likely over staying their welcomes and completely throwing off the twins' routine) to see and meet the babies.

So it'd been decided. And then there'd been the next debate of the when this would happen. It'd been decided weeks ago. And weeks and weeks ago. But then there was the matter of waiting until Jay – so much more than her – felt their immune systems were strong enough to endure District. Because apparently it was a much more germ-invested environment than the pediatrician waiting rooms she had them in multiple times a month. Or the hospital lab when she was the one taking Ethan in for blood work. Or RIC and its physical therapy rooms when she was taking him over to that. Or Hank's house with Ethan and a dog and Henry wanting to poke at the babies constantly, usually after he'd picked his nose, had his hands down his pants, or had had his full hand in his mouth to lick off whatever sticky mess Hank had given him as a snack (which was also usually all over his face and mouth too for when he tried to kiss the twins – leaning in for full-on, open mouth, tongue out Frenching, which made her wish so bad Justin was around to rib him about where the hell Henry had gotten that from and what he was teaching his son). Or the grocery store. Or the pharmacy. Or the fucking Target she'd become one of those people that she just went to to wander the fucking aisles to get out of the house – but be inside – for just a while between feeding and naps and actually looking forward to being asked to be Ethan's taxi service to RIC and Field (again to just get a fucking change of pace and scenery).

And after Jay finally agreed the twins were "strong enough" to be in "public" (because apparently the District was much more "public" than he let himself believe any of the other necessities and escapes she took with the kids were on any other day of the week) then there'd been the dance of actually trying to find a "good day" for the visit with a job that was entirely unpredictable. At least they'd found a week where Jay's caseload was low, he wasn't scheduled to run any U.C. or surveillance, and he didn't have any court dates. And they'd managed to get through the morning without Jay calling to say that something had popped and they were all boots to the ground. So now they just needed to get through the next twenty or thirty minutes without shit hitting the fan.

But from the looks of it – even though she'd actually thought it might be more likely Jay would call and say he'd had second thoughts about them coming it and putting it on an indefinite hold – he actually looked happy to see them. And maybe finally a little excited for the chance to show off the babies to the team. To their second family.

"Three of my best things," he teased.

"It me or your Italian beef that's number three on that list," she raised her eyebrow.

He grinned. "Italian beef is your thing, not mine."

She only rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"A girl's gotta eat," he teased again. "Fries don't hit the sweet spot."

"Should I do a Hank," she pressed. "Tell you you're cruising?"

It got a smile. It was amazing how much that line was slipping into both their idioms. 'Cruising for a bruising'. So much so that they both referred to it as having muttered 'a Hank' at the babies in moments of exhausted frustration when they couldn't calm them out of a bout of fussiness.

And such a stupid line – when Erin knew that Hank had never raised a hand to his kids. Get in your face, raise his voice, hand down all kinds of consequences and punishments for your actions (or inactions) – but hit, beat, spank – never. Just like she knew that none of that would ever be part of her and Jay's repertoire of discipline either. But sometimes the line just worked.

And sometimes it seemed real good at shutting people up (it always had her and Justin, and now Eth, knowing that you were getting Hank close to running out of patience with you. Maybe it'd eventually work on the twins too. Though right now it was usually more of a signal to the other parent that it was time for them to take their turn before they lost patience with the babies and started in on their own exhausted meltdown). Though, that time the line served its purpose. It shut Jay up a bit.

But Erin could tell even more with the sass and banter he was handing out that he was feeling more relaxed about this. Maybe more giddy about it than he wanted to admit. But she knew that Kim had been wanting to see them badly. And she knew Adam had asked Jay several times – that he was probably being the most supportive of Jay's transition into fatherhood and Hank's transition into … post-Al … than anyone. And Hailey had been being supportive of him too. That everyone – nearly – was trying to be happy for them and supportive of the family they were trying to make and keep together.

And they were pretty happy and excited to – when they let themselves step back and just look at what they'd 'made'. Insta-family Jay had teased at one point. And it definitely wasn't. It'd been a haul getting to where they were. It still was. They still had a ways to go. But they were definitely a family now. Undeniably connected.

"Do you want to bring the whole stroller up?" he asked. She could see it was already rearranging the blankets a bit so they babies could be seen. Pulling off their hats and mittens so they wouldn't overheat. She likely should've done that herself when they got inside. But she'd kind of been swarmed when she'd been hoping to just make it upstairs quickly. She should've known better.

She gave Platt a glance. She'd been watching their every movement. And she was pretty sure that Trudy was actually barely restraining herself from coming over to get a better look at the twins now that Jay had pulled off a bunch of their gear. But she'd been one of the very few people who'd gotten permission to come and see the babies while they were still in the hospital and in their early weeks at home. She knew what there was to see.

But Erin knew there was a sort of possessiveness wrapped up in the access she'd been granted too. The role she was being allowed to have and support she was being allowed to give. Erin understood too that Trudy had her own emotions and grief and processing – and meaning – wrapped up in the twins. And she was allowing her that. Because she'd always been a good support to her. And to Hank. She'd played a good aunt to Ethan. And she just had a soft spot for kids – despite the façade she put on. She had an even softer spot for Hank Voight's kids. And Erin knew it was going to be an even softer soft spot for Mattie and Eli. She could be Aunt Trudy to them too. Or Great Aunt Trudy. Or whatever they figured out for her eventually when the twins were talking.

"You can leave it," Trudy nodded at them. "I'll move it behind the desk, out of the way."

Erin nodded back. "Buckets," she told Jay of the detachable car seats.

He reached and started popping Eli's off the frame upfront. "Where's Ejeg's glasses?" he asked, giving her a look.

She just made a frustrated noise and lifted them up off the pulled back shade where she'd tossed him when he'd managed to yank them off his face and toss them to the ground. She'd barely noticed them before she'd rolled the stroller over them. The fucking kid had no appreciation of how much these things cost and how little their fucking benefits covered eye care for infants.

It's like somehow insurance companies had decided not to realize that if you've got a child needing glasses – when they weren't even a year, let alone not yet in school – that they were probably going to need their lens prescriptions updated a lot more than once every two years. And they were probably going to destroy them repeatedly no matter what kind of insurance you put on the insurance covered glasses to get them fixed.

Even though these baby ones were built to last she could already tell they were going to go through a ton of the things. She didn't want to think about what he'd be doing to them by the time he was a toddler and could really practice all out destruction on them – if what Henry and his Terrible Twos followed by his Tantrum Threes were any kind on what to expect of little boys.

She fucking saw the abuse Ethan put his glasses through as an active pre-teen and teenager too. And the multiple different pairs and frames Hank had to have for him to survive sports and camping and fishing and working on cars and in the woodshop and just tossing them in his backpack without putting them into a case first.

Yet another thing they were going to be completely screwed on. They should keep a tally of how many pairs of glasses Eli was going to go through in his childhood. Take a bet. She didn't think they were off to a great start even though so far he was just twisting them off his face and tossing them every time he'd decided he'd had enough of them for one day (which usually occurred within about five minutes of her managing to get them around his head).

"He has zero interest in having them on right now," she informed Jay, dangling them in his direction. Because she knew Jay wouldn't give a shit that Eli had zero interest in wearing them.

"The doctor says he should be wearing them in the car and stroller," Jay said. Tone. Like he was telling her - off.

She had more than heard the spiel about the importance of training Eli's eyes to focus and track and that to do that they needed to have him out in the car and in the stroller – moving and the environment changing around him. But she suspected that if it was all just going by in a big blur to him while his eyes tried to figure out how to co-operate and work – it was doing more than a little to make him feel carsick. And headache-y and dizzy and generally puke-y and cranky. So she didn't exactly blame him for deciding he wanted the goggles off his face.

"I know that," she pressed at him firmly. "You explain that to him." Because she knew for a fact that EJ currently gave zero shits what the doctors thought about his eyes. He pretty much thought the eye doctors were torturers and he didn't want them or any of their instruments near him.

But Jay still snagged the specs from her and set Eli's carseat on the step behind him, crouching down to pull the band to get it around the kid's head. It was definitely a two handed job. More so when Jay did it, because she knew he'd tighten the arms around Eli's ears more so than she ever did. She preferred him to actually be able to at least initiate getting them off his face rather than him reaching an all-out fit about them being on his face. Jay apparently felt different on that. Tough love about the eyesight. They'd been having some clashes there.

"These go on, bud," Jay told Eli, who was doing his best to try to bat Daddy's hands away from his face and pull his head back as far as the seat would allow in protest. He was grunting to make sure that Jay knew it too but Daddy wasn't listening. He'd get to be the one to deal with the meltdown if there was one. But thankfully after he got them on – in a non-motion setting – and EJ saw Daddy's face – presumably clear – he lit up in that dimpled smile of his and gurgled some.

It was enough to actually draw Platt from behind her desk. She hadn't seen the babies since the ophthalmologist and optometrist had decided they were likely looking at a lifetime of glasses with Eli. And she clearly wanted to check it out.

She lit up – as much as Platt ever did – seeing the headgear on him. "Isn't he just the mirror of his Uncle with that headgear."

Yep. Mr. Magoo. That was also pretty accurate. Too bad that more than one person in the family couldn't have that pet name. She didn't think that would be something Ethan would share well.

Jay gave Erin a glance. "I've told you how much he looks like Eth in these things," he said, rising back up.

Erin just made a sound at that. Jay had pointed out that he saw lots of bits and pieces of Ethan in their son. Something they both knew was technically an impossibility – genetically and thus physical trait-wise. But she saw it and felt it too. There were lots of little things in Eli that gave her minor flashbacks to Eth in those early months years ago. And, she supposed she'd heard enough in her life that Ethan looked so much like her. She'd had enough of those conversations where people mistaken him as hers. But she'd also had enough conversations where she'd had enough physical traits and quirks that were so similar to Hank and Camille's that people who didn't know had assumed she was their biological child too. But it still felt different and strange to look at her son – and know it was an impossibility – but to see so much of her baby brother and her real family, her real parents, the real people who'd raised her – in him. But maybe life somehow programmed you that way. Some sort of chemical imperative that outweighed the biology of it. The connections and bonds were still there somehow to make it real and strong for everyone.

"I think he looks like a little book worm," Erin told Trudy, as she reached to get Mattie's seat off the stroller frame. "Like his grandma."

Trudy smiled softly – nearly sadly – at that. "His grandpa most like hearing that one."

"Mmm …," Erin allowed as she straightened.

She actually could tell in a lot of ways the twins were breaking Hank's heart all over again. Likely in new and different ways. She could see it in his face. How quiet he got sometimes – even for Hank. The way he held the babies and just how he stared at them. Maybe Olive had seen it too when Henry arrived. Maybe more after Justin was gone.

Maybe Erin hadn't noticed it quite as much – or in a different way, herself – then. But she saw it now. Maybe because they were her own kids. Maybe because they made her think about Camille too. To miss her. And to hurt that she was missing this. To hurt that she didn't have Camille there to help her and teach her more about being a mom. And having a career. And a life. And being a woman and an adult when all these other and new factors and dynamics came into play. That made you feel less like yourself but like you were growing into your new self or maybe the self and person you were supposed to be. But that that was hard – and a little scary sometimes – too.

It actually broke her heart a bit for Hank too each time she saw and felt that in him. Knowing that her kids did that to him. That it was making him thinking about things – losses – that maybe he didn't want to think about. Making him remember times and moments that could be hard to dwell on even now. Erin knew that feeling too. And she'd only had Camille in her life for twelve years. But the memories and love and giving and support and bond – it felt so much more fundamental to the person she'd become that it was still hard to accept she was gone. There were still moments where something would come up and she'd realized all kinds of extra little things Camille had done for her – for all of them – as a mom and a wife and head of household and caregiver and provider and guardian and woman. Sacrifices she'd made and time she'd given (and given up from her own wants and needs) to make their lives a little easier and a little more full.

It was hard for Erin to think about on her own too much too because she started thinking about how much it would hurt – how much it would break her – if her and Jay didn't work out. Or so much worse – if something happened to him and she was left to raise their kids alone. To watch them grow and change. To go through milestones and graduations and birthdays and holidays and blood, sweat and tears – without him there for them. To realize that life went on – and that it was going on without this person who'd you'd made other living, breathing human beings with. These little people who were a parts of you both. And that eventually the missing person would just be a distant memory to them – if you were gone. That eventually those little people might grow up and have their own kids and those kids would never know anything of their grandparent beyond pictures and stories and home videos. That they wouldn't be real.

It hurt to think about. It was another thing that felt so different now. She'd always empathized with Hank for his loss. For Ethan's loss and Justin's loss. For the whole family's loss. But the starkness of the kind of emotions he must still cope with on a regular basis (she suspected a near daily basis still – or at least right now) was that much more in her face.

It felt more stark and real too when she thought about Jay – and their family. She absolutely knew it was part of the job. There were risks. Things could happen. Their might be a day he'd get hurt. There might be a day where he didn't come home at the end of shift. But she felt it more now – differently. There was a fear to it that hadn't been there before in the same way.

Because before she had his back. Before she was there beside him. She was living the risks. She knew the job. She had her eyes on the situation. She was an extra body and extra hands and more boots on the ground. She had a vested interest in making sure her partner got home that night. And now she did so much more so.

She knew it weighed at Jay too. Even though he'd been trained how to do that. As a cop and as a solider. He knew the risks. He knew how to manage them. He knew how to compartmentalize and keep his head in the job. When he was there – he was there. But she knew it was different now for him to.

She knew he felt the weight of his responsibilities at home. She knew he didn't want to miss things either. And she knew he was still trying to find that balance in the compartmentalizing. To figure out the personal and the professional in a different way – where he wasn't always having to flip a switch and be two different people. Jay the Cop and the Jay they got at home.

Though, Erin knew that was part of the job too. She knew she did it. She knew her and Jay had done it in their relationship too. They got different people at home versus on the job. Different parts of them. Different kinds of partners.

She knew she'd done her growing up in a house where she'd seen the different sides of Hank. And she'd seen even more sides of him – and the kind of man he was and the kind of cop he was – after she was on the job and under his command. And she'd struggled then to see him as her boss and not the guy who raised her. To be able to separate the two.

But maybe it' easier to separate those parts of yourself. But she also hated Jay having to learn to build new walls between them that he thought was part of protecting – and taking care of – her and the babies. That wasn't the kind of protection or care she needed. And she didn't think it was the kind of protection he needed either.

Just like she also knew she didn't want to be the one putting Jay – and the twins – in a situation where he was the one with the looks that Hank had a lot of days. That the twins didn't remember her – hardly remember her – the way Ethan did with his mom. And that was a hard separation and balance and compartmentalization on her part too in trying to figure out what she'd do – where she'd land, how to be happy and have a career and provide for her family and the twins and her relationship in the best way she could.

"You want me to take her," Jay offered, already sticking his hand out to grab Mattie's carrier like he was going to be some kind of Daddy Rambo in hauling them upstairs.

She cocked her eyebrow at him. "And let everyone think I'm now incapable of climbing a flight of stairs."

He rolled his eyes at her.

"You realize I carry them up and down stairs all day while you're here," she said.

"And back to work I go …," Trudy stated plainly and turned on her heel back to the desk, trolleying the stroller along with her.

"Not in their carriers," Jay pressed back.

And she raised her eyebrow at him. "Not in their carriers? Really, Jay? In the fantastic stacked-town you thought would be perfect to 'have room to raise a family in'."

"You liked the house," he grumbled at her and stomped up the first few steps to get ready to palm-in.

"No," Erin said. "I liked the location of the house."

"You liked the house," he eyed her. "You like the bedroom."

"You mean the bedroom on _THE FOURTH FLOOR_ that I currently don't even get to sleep in."

He eyed her more. "You like the house. You like the view from the master. And you love the walk-in in en suite."

"And do I like the stairs upon stairs in the house – that I have to carry them up and down – _IN CARRIERS_ – every time I want to leave the house?"

"Okay, Wonder Woman …," he said.

"Whoa, whoa, watch the flippancy over there Boy Wonder," Platt called from over at the desk, apparently not quite back to work yet.

Jay cast Platt a look as he palmed-in and pulled open the gate. But Erin only gave him a smile and raised the eyebrow at him again.

"Into the car, out of the car. Into the stroller, out of the stroller," she added. "Schlepping them and all this," she gestured back at the stroller and duffle bag sized diaper bag. "I think I can carry ONE of them up the stairs."

Jay gestured. "Have at'er."

She gave him another smile and started past him while he held the door. But she stopped to flex her bicep at him as she did.

"Babies - best upper body workout of my life," she nodded at him.

They'd actually both been marveling what hauling the twins had around had done for her upper body strength. Jay kept testing her bulging muscles nearly every time they were in bed together and if he snuck into the shower with her. They'd done some fooling around – of the arm wrestle and Mercy variety. And she'd gotten a lot more traction in some times over-powering him and other times making him put up a good fight to be able to get the upper hand. Jay had teased – rather seriously – that they needed to get over to the gym and see how much she could bench these days. She'd actually be interested in know too. Baby gear, baby carseats and babies – even preemies – times two was a good weight to be hauling around, especially when she was toting one in each hand.

Even though Jay's take on any changes in her body and appearance with pregnancy and childbirth had been couched both in his PBS/NPR docu-nerd wonderment and his functional-(re)form philosophy of: 'if it's comfy, I don't care what it looks like' (and apparently her body and their re-emerging sex life post-children generally met that criteria for him – and his alluded 'Italian beef' [which was beyond wishful thinking on his part in terms of size or the possibility of her ever putting it in her mouth] - when it came to what the kids had done to her abs, pelvis, breasts, uterus, cervix and vagina), he'd definitely been pretty impressed by her arms. And the strength that came with him. Enough for him to do the 'good guy' line of 'strong's sexy' – which she actually appreciated. Mostly because she preferred him to know that if he did piss her off, she could still kick his ass and not just hand him the sass.

But he gave the offered bicep a little squeeze. "We'll sign you up for the next Battle of the Badges," he allowed.

"My money would be on you girl," Trudy called again from over at the desk.

And she allowed her a look and a little smile. But she thought that was a winning bet. She was pretty sure that motherhood did give you some extra super powers amidst all the other changes it threw at you.

Just like she was pretty sure she had this. One step and one flight – upward – at a time.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Reader feedback, comments and reviews are appreciated. I was happy with this chapter.**

 **And, yes, the next scene will partially include them having the twins in the bullpen.**


	17. Introductions

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

 **THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF THE CHAPTER** **(chapter 16 STEPS)** **IMMEDIATELY BEFORE THIS. PLEASE CHECK IT OUT. I WAS REALLY HAPPY WITH IT. BUT IT APPEARS TO NOT HAVE BUMPED/POSTED ALERT DUE TO LESS THAN 24 HOURS BETWEEN POSTS.**

Erin had barely gotten passed Jay – he'd barely let go of the gate to let it fall back into place and lock – before he grabbed her elbow as she went to mount the stairs. She let the tug halt her momentarily and gave him a glance – and an eyebrow.

"Hey, by the way," he said.

She gave him a smile at that. "Hi," she allowed.

"I love you," he told her a lot more quietly.

She crunched her forehead in a small question at that popping out right then. But Erin couldn't help but smile at it too. "I love you too," she said – not bothering to keep it to lower tones at all. They weren't kidding anyone. Everyone knew. More than knew. They had living, breathing evidence of what they'd been doing for years now. There wasn't much point in even trying to act like they had something to hide. They couldn't hide easily anymore. And there really wasn't an point in trying to sneak around behind anyone's back.

"You sure you're ready for this?" he asked quietly again, though.

And she knew what he meant. Because in their ongoing conversations about when they'd bringing the twins in – finally – there hadn't just been talk about the babies health and immune systems. There hadn't been the talk about Voight and his personal versus professional rules. About where family ended and work began and vice versa. About the lines that could be blurred and when and how to do that and where to find the balance. About how selective and picky and finicky – and unpredictable and contradictory – he could be about when he did and didn't want his family on display in the bullpen. And if this was showing off his family – and needed to fall within his rules. Or if it was more undeniably Jay's decision about if – and when and how – he wanted to display his family in the District.

And that had been enough conversation to work through. But then there'd been that added layer of her. Of her own worries and concerns. Even though she'd had thoughts and inputs and opinions on many of the areas Jay had dealt with in terms of work and the babies. But she had her own too. The shifted identity. Letting the team – her second family – see her in a different way. And trying to figure out how to accept that and interact with that. To be proud of it and to make sure others recognized that being 'mom' now was just another piece of her – and added layer – it wasn't her entire definition. That she was still her. That she still wanted to be the real police. Good police. She still wanted a career in some kind of law enforcement. To bring some kind of justice to her city and community. To have other things in her life that defined her beyond these two squawking little creatures they'd created. That she knew were more than stealing pieces of her heart and shifting and turning and redefining her identity in ways she hadn't entirely expected or prepared for.

And the truth was – when the twins first finally got home – it wouldn't have just been them who weren't ready to be put on display. Erin wouldn't have been ready either. It'd been a big shift to move from being a mom and parent in an emergency and NICU situation to figuring out how to do and be all that at home – in the day-in, day-out. It was its own kind of process and a completely different frame of mind. It'd taken time to settle from the trauma that all of them had gone through. To get out of disaster mode and crisis mode and emergency mode. To learn how to deal with this fun and exciting new layer of post-traumatic stress (and likely years of worry to come) that the twins' arrival and health had created.

She thought, though, in some ways all of that had almost helped her settle into accepting she was someone's – two someones' – mom now. Because she'd been so scared she wouldn't know how to be a mom or feel love for them in the 'right' way. That she'd be too wrapped up in trying to maintain 'her' and her identity that she'd just mess up figuring out how to bond with them and connect with them. But that kind of situation – what had happened to them – she just ached for them from the get. They were hers and she was theres from the get. She'd had to care for them and advocate for them in a different way than made she'd anticipated. And it'd been hard – and devastating – but maybe it was in some ways what their family all needed. Then and now.

By the time she got home with her babies – her family – she felt more like a 'mom' than she'd expected to feel. But it'd taken a whole other adjustment to then learn how to be a 'mom' at home. It was just a completely different frame of mind. Completely different needs and responsibilities she had to cater to and figure out how to manage. And it'd been then that the truck of 'identity' had hit again.

The first weeks at home had been so hard. And then the next ones when Jay had gone back to work and she was left there with the babies – officially 'mom'. A stay-at-home mom for then and now. And she'd battled so hard against that not being her. And how she couldn't do it for any length of time. Because it wasn't the kind of woman she was and it wasn't the kind of mother she wanted to be. And it just wasn't how she wanted people to see her.

Like it was some kind of weakness. Like she'd somehow fucked up by having kids. A liability. Them and her.

But she'd slowly realized it took a different kind of patience and strength to get through it. And she took quiet pride in knowing – she had this. She was figuring it. She was doing it. And she was doing it the way Camille (and Hank) had taught her. She was making a sacrifice for her family. But she was gaining a lot from it too.

She wasn't a Bunny. She didn't know how to be a Bunny – not with these two little creatures – of her own making. That kind of childhood just wasn't going to be part of their world. It wasn't going to be the world they knew or how they grew up. And it made her feel better – stronger – as a mom and a person and a woman. She knew how – she'd been taught how and she was confirming in new ways that it was a part of who she was as a person – to be brave and kind and unselfish in new ways. Different ways. Maybe better ways. She was learning the different kind of meanings and levels behind that that came when you had different titles and labels in your life. When you had new and added meaning and responsibilities in you life.

Erin still struggled with being home. Erin still knew that she didn't want to by someone who figured out a way to stay home with the kids until they were into school or later. And she was still figuring out exactly how it was – and what it was – she was going to be doing when she got back to work. Officially.

She didn't know how her and Jay would manage their schedules or how they'd figure out how to balance work and family life. But she also knew they couldn't figure that out until she found someone willing to take her on again. And until she found a job that she felt didn't just make since for her – and who she was – but for her family. For her kids.

And Erin knew – now in a different way than she'd accepted or fully conceptualized before – that she was so fucking lucky to be living in a situation where that was something she could do right now. She could be home with the babies. She could be selective about what job she took. She could take some time finding it.

Because she had a partner – the babies' father – who was supportive of her going back to work. And who had a job and an income to allow her – them – to have some time at home getting them all healthy and on track. She didn't have to take a part-time job in retail or food or security just so they had an extra pay check coming in. They might be living pay check to pay check right now – but they weren't hand-to-mouth. They had a mouth over their heads. They had nice things – luxuries she wouldn't have imagined growing up. The kind of house she wouldn't have imagined getting to grow up in. And her kids would get to grow up in that.

Because she had a guy who'd raised her living ridiculously close-by who wanted to be involved. Who tried really hard to be a good grandfather. Who helped out any way he could. Who went out of his way to try to help. And as old school cop – and old-fashioned, over-protective dad – as he could be, he hadn't spouted off anything about her being home with the kids. He hadn't questioned or pressured or lectured her in any way about what she should or shouldn't be doing with her career – even though he always had opinions about what he felt was best for her. He always thought he knew best. But he'd also mostly restrained himself from saying he knew better when it came to being a parent – or the way they should be parenting the twins. As preemies, as kids with health issues or as a cop family. And the bit of advice and opinion he'd given in those realms hadn't been heavy-handed – yet.

She had a younger brother who was old enough to help and would be old enough to babysit. She had a sister-in-law who – as crazy as Olive drove her – had some thoughts and advice and hand-me downs. And who came over and tried to help too as much as Erin would let her.

She was so fucking lucky. They were. Her and Jay. The twins. It wasn't perfect – but it was a whole lot better than a whole lot of people had. It was probably a whole lot better than either her or Jay could've expected in their lives given the family situations they were born into.

And she knew the rest of it – they'd figure it out. Her and Jay would have each other's back. They'd support each other. And catch each other on all the missteps they made in figuring out this parenting and family and raising kids and work-life-family balance thing. And all the identities got layered onto you with that.

So she wasn't as worried about what people thought about her having kids. Her being a lady cop – or law enforcement – with babies. She didn't feel like having a family made her a liability. It'd changed her. It still was. She knew it likely would for years to come as the kids grew and changed and presented them with different – and growing – challenges. Because Hank always told her too: 'little kids, little problems; big kids, big problems' – and she didn't have to reflect too long on her own growing up (or Justin's or Eth's) to know there was a lot of truth in that statement. Still.

But she was proud of her family. The family she had and made and picked. So she really didn't give a fuck what people thought of that part of her identity. Because she felt like all of them – Jay, the twins, Ethan, Hank – they made her stronger. They'd made her become and different and better and stronger person. And she felt like that was only going to grow and help her as a cop (or investigator or data cruncher or wherever she ended up). A better cop.

So "Are they ready?" was what she put back to Jay. The twins. And the people upstairs in accepting – who and what she was now and who and what she wasn't anymore. Change is inventible. Some things come and go. Her family – these babies, her knew 'mom' title – wasn't going to be one of them.

And he gave her a thin smile too and leaned forward, planting a kiss on her lips. The hushed tones forgotten apparently. She kissed him back – capturing his lips twice before they inched away from each other. She gave a little glance outside the mesh of the stairs. Trudy had been watching but as they caught eyes, Erin got a wryly smile from her as she turned back to her paperwork.

Erin put her hand against his chest and gave him her own smile. "Don't go getting soft on me, Jay."

"Does that mean I'm not allowed to hold your hand in public either?" he put to her. And she smiled a bit more at that. "C'mon …," he said, grabbing her free-hand as they went up the rest of the stairs.

It was so strange coming up there. She hadn't been upstairs since being back in the city. She'd purposely avoided it. Because she'd struggled with identity and perceptions (and biases) from others during her pregnancy. She wasn't sure how to handle it. So she'd just tried to bury her head in the sand and not deal with it yet.

Now it felt even more different. Because she was going up there – her second home, with her second family, with people missing – with two new family members of her own. But as strange as it felt – there was a tinge of coming home. Even though you never really could go home again – you could. It was just going to be different. She'd gotten better at accepting that.

"Babies …" Jay announced as they got to the top of the stairs and then gave her a lot – a little mischievous. "And Erin."

"Thanks," she muttered. "I think I know where everyone's priorities are."

Kim was already up before they'd hardly set foot into the bullpen. She came in for a hug, Jay taking Mattie out of Erin's hand and doing a two-handed bucket-lug over to his desk.

"Welcome back," Kim said. And it was a strange thing to say – because she wasn't back. And she wasn't sure she'd ever be back. Not just to Intelligence but to CPD. It didn't look like it. But it felt good to hear too.

And at least Kim charging into kept Erin from scanning the space too much. From finding the desk's moved and people's locations shifted. Al's belongings gone. Hailey where she once sat. Nadia's – and Mouse's – space still where it was but unoccupied.

"And you carried twins?" Kim muttered at her, as she released her and gave a scan down her.

Erin rolled her eyes at that. "Picture isn't as pretty if you saw me in the locker room. Be glad I'm not back and you're missing that."

Kim gave that a little frown. But Erin knew she knew the reality too. She knew Kim had situations too where she'd had to step away for family. And that when you came 'back' it was never quite 'coming back'. Not the same way. Not as the same person. Though, so far Kim had kept coming back too. Going through her regenerations as a cop. And maybe eventually she'd go through this one too some day.

Kim gestured over to where Jay had deposited the babies on his desk and was working on getting the handles and the coverings pulled down from obstructing anyone's views.

Adam, Atwater and Upton were already relocating to do the obligatory gaze that the kids. But she could see that Hank was hanging back in his office – taking his time from getting up from his desk. Likely using the delay as some distancing of personal-professional. Or maybe just not interfering in stealing Jay's thunder in that moment. Or he just saw the babies enough times in any given week he really didn't feel like losing any time of his work-day by giving them a cursory glance again. He did look a little like someone had pissed in his coffee.

"Been waiting for this all day," Kim said, moving away from her.

Erin allowed a thin smile at that. She knew it must be a slow day if this was the highlight. But that was a good day to come in. And she knew that Jay was dealing with paperwork after another rough case. So maybe everyone could use the few minutes of distraction and the sort-of pick-me-up that babies could provide. If they decided to tolerate a whole lot of new people looking at them and poking at them without going into siren-wail mode. Then Jay would get to show-off his dad-skills in trying to get them to shut up. She might just let him be all on his own in that effort. That'd be a real show-and-tell for him.

But Antonio wasn't getting up. He'd barely even glanced at her. And she restrained herself from calling him out on it. Not the time or the place.

"Hey Dawson …" she allowed and tried a half-assed dap explosion barely higher than her waist in some sort of friendly effort and peace offering.

He gave her a glance and a little nod. Erin knew he was avoiding her. She'd shot him a few texts. She wanted to take him out for breakfast and pick his brain on working for the State Attorney's office here. To get some perspective on why he really left the job. If it really was that boring after working as a detective in PD. Or if it really hadn't given him that work-life balance he'd been looking for with having more family time available in being a parent to his kids during his divorce. Just to get a better feel on what the investigator's bureau was like in Cook County. Because she knew it'd definitely be a different experience than with the type of cases and tasks she'd been put on over in New York.

But Antonio hadn't even given an avoidance and delay response to her texts. It'd been all-out radio silence. And Jay had just said maybe she should drop it. It got re-stressed that things were complicated right now with the Voight-Antonio dynamic and how it was playing out in Intelligence. Al and Bingham and the Ivory Tower and Hank's administrative leave and lines draw in the sand and where allegiances got placed and ladders people were trying to climb or cling on to. And then how she fit into that. With Jay and with Hank and with things that had happened. That some of it might not be doors they wanted to end up opening or wounds they shouldn't pick at. That if she really wanted to take anyone out for breakfast intel to get in touch with someone else – Nagel maybe. But Erin had hoped that Dawson – as her 'brother' – would've separated pieces of what was going on from her in having that discussion. But maybe that was another way things were different now. And another thing she was going to have to accept.

"Promise I won't tell you the birth story," she said. "Just show you the babies."

He put on a thin-lipped smile and gave a slow exhale. "Yea, in a few, just need to make some calls …" And he picked up the phone.

So she only nodded a little and went over to where everyone else was. Hank had managed to pull himself from his desk and was leaning against his doorframe watching at that point too – staring more directly at the babies, like he always did. The rest of them might as well not be in the room when Eli and Mattie were there.

So far the twins, though, seemed pretty unfazed by the gaggle of people staring down at them. Or Kim's efforts to get EJ to take her finger. Or Adam leaning in way too close to make faces at Mattie – which Jay had caught and put a hand on his shoulder to get him to back up a bit. The babies were mostly just gazing up at them like they'd lost their minds. That seemed to be their standard expression for new people – at least initially. It'd phase into crying eventually. Over stimulation and too much unfamiliarity. They'd keep the visit short.

"So are they Halsteads, Lindsays or Voights?" Ruzek said, casting a boy-child look between the three of them, like he'd asked a perfectly legitimate question. "What?" he argued, catching a smack from Hank and the bullets shot from Jay's eyes. "You never know around here." At least he hadn't included 'Fletchers' on that list. Then she likely would've given him a look – and a real smack – too.

"They've got their dad's name," Erin provided before Jay got into it with Adam.

And she felt Hank's eyes on her as she said it. That'd been another ongoing conversation. That was about as far as he pushed with his patronizing advice and opinions offered. That if they'd played house long enough and hard enough to have babies in the picture – they should have their father's name and if she was going to give her kids their father's name than it should be made formal for all of them. That Jay should be 'making an honest woman' out of her. That he should've while she was still pregnant. And that he wanted to see is a ring on her finger and a wedding license in-hand and he wanted that stability and foundation for all of them. Her, Jay and the babies.

And maybe she agreed with Hank on that a lot. Maybe she wanted that too. But she was only part of that equation. And she only had so much say in that ultimate decision. So instead she just reaffirmed to him that she did have a (engagement) ring on her finger. That her and Jay did have each other's back. That they were working on their relationship. That they loved their kids and they both intended to be there for them whatever happened. And that they would have the stability of having both parents in their lives – whatever happened. And she wanted them to have their dad's name – whatever happened. Because that was important to Jay – to know he was there and in their lives and supporting them and there for them. And it was important to her for them to always know who their dad was – because she hadn't had that. And her kids would always now – it'd be on their birth certificates and in their names and their being – again, whatever happened between her and Jay.

"But I'd say that one looks like you, Sarge," Atwater offered in a tease and a point at Mattie.

"That's the girl," Hank smacked.

"Oh," Atwater shrugged and gave Erin a smile. "You know all you white folks look the same to me."

Kim gave him a small swat in the chest with the back of her hand for that. But Kevin only smiled a bit more.

"I'm only playin'," he offered but then pointed at Eli. "Can tell this one definitely dresses like you, though, Sergeant, sir."

And another smack out of Hank while Erin rolled her eyes, and rounded the desk to nudge everyone out of the way a bit and work on getting Eli out of the straps in the car seat. She figured that at least someone – Kim, and Trudy if she ended up coming upstairs – would want to get a chance to hold them.

"Family tartan," Jay agreed, though. And earned another smack out of Hank.

Erin didn't really care. She'd admit that maybe the plaid of EJ's bodysuit did look quite a lot like pretty much every shirt Hank owned. And maybe she hadn't entirely realized that when she'd picked it. But it did make sense considering Hank pretty much held onto most of his clothes until they fell off his back. So that meant that he owned a whole collection of shirts that her and Justin and Ethan had had under the Christmas tree (or on his birthday – or both … since they were very creative and since Hank never needed or wanted anything … beyond everyone getting along, which was usually a whole lot harder to give him than buying a shirt). And nearly all of those were ones she would've pulled off a rack. Apparently she thought her infant son looked flattering in the same plaid and flannel patterns.

But again, she didn't care. The material was soft and warm. And with Eli soft and warm was pretty much a priority. It was still sometimes a struggle to keep his core temperature regulated.

"It's what happens when you send Erin shopping," Jay said. "Along with a credit card bill that now seems to have Target charges on it monthly."

She raised an eyebrow at him and gestured at Mattie. "And the reason there was a grotesque Target charge on it this month is because that is what happens when you let Jay loose in the baby girl section," she said. "A cart full of unicorns."

He gave her a look at that. But it was true. Jay picked out super, super girlie clothes for Mattie. Not that they'd had to do much clothes shopping yet. They'd been gifted a ton at the shower and the babies were so small when they were born they were still growing into a lot of the stuff. It'd actually been more of preemie clothes they'd been missing. It'd been Hank and Trudy who'd gone out after the babies were born and bought them some preemie-sized sleepers and onesies for in the early weeks in NICU. But even a lot of that stuff had been too big on them until closer to the time they were getting released from Med.

Jay gave her another look. "I don't think there is any problem with me wanting a few sets of clothes that aren't co-ed in the drawers."

Erin gazed at him, playing dumb. "You mean I'm not supposed to be putting the unicorns on Eli?" Jay cocked his head at her. "Oops."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Erin shrugged. "You know what your next step needs to be if you want me to come even vaguely in the same galaxy of considering doing the 'love, honor, and obey' thing about unicorns - and pretty much anything else," she said.

"Ooooooh," Adam said and gave Jay a look. Like she'd given Jay the ultimate burn. "Boom, man."

"You're one to talk," Kim muttered under her breath. Erin heard it. She wasn't sure if Adam had.

"You want to try to keep it professional with the personal sass you've got going on there," Jay nodded at Erin.

But she shrugged. "I don't work here anymore," she provided. "And I'm sure everyone here already knows how you can be."

He looked st her. "Meaning?"

She shrugged. "That sometimes you can be a bit of a knuckle-head."

"Sounding like Will isn't attractive," he told her.

"You mean sounding like a Halstead? Highly unattractive. Rugged even."

He exhaled and nodded at the rest of the gang. "And this is why we need to find a way to make it easier for her to get out of the house more, because right now — this way she's motoring, she's cruising," he said and looked her in the eye.

She grinned at that and cast Hank a look. He'd caught it. His tongue was sticking in his cheek as he measured it. He clearly wasn't as amused with the work-place banter as everyone else. But something about his eyes – and the look in them – took her aback a bit.

Erin crunched her forehead at him but he just moved his eyes to continue gazing at his grandkids. She wondered if he'd let down his workplace guard and walls enough to take a turn in getting to hold them. He rarely passed up the opportunity, even if he was only over picking up Eth, she still usually got a 'give 'em here' about both babies and he'd hold at them for several long minutes.

"I'm starting to think the lack of pink, frills, unicorns and rainbows in my wardrobe – when he clearly thinks that's what a girl should wear, is the hold-up on getting over to Randolph Street."

"It was Target. The options pretty much were unicorns or flowers," Jay said. "You said you didn't want her dressed like she was out of Little House on the Prairie."

Erin shrugged. "Too old-fashioned for me."

It was pointed – with a teasing undertone. As supportive and as much of a 'good guy' Jay could be. Or tried to be. He was still more than a little old-fashioned and traditional values in some of his thought processes and convictions. She had a bit of a love-hate relationship with that. They balanced each other out and challenged each other in important ways. They helped each other keep it real — and in perspective. Especially when they got tunnel vision or lost perspective completely.

But, again, maybe she was used to existing with in — and expanding — those kinds of values after spending so much time around Hank.

And maybe she thought that dynamic was supposed to be how a relationship or marriage worked too given how she measured too much of what it was supposed to look like again what she'd seen in Hank and Camille.

Camille had definitely challenged Hank on his old-fashioned and traditional family values stances too. She wasn't a Laura Ingalls Wilder even if she was a good mom and a good wife. But she was also a career woman and a professional and strong-willed and short-tempered. She wasn't a push-over — in the marriage, in the relationship, as a woman, or on the job.

Erin sort of hoped she challenged Jay in the same way Camille had with Hank. In a way he liked and a way that worked for both of them – as a couple and as a family. As a 21st century middle-class, urban family.

Kim smiled but was staring down at EJ. She touched at the little appliqués on the knees of his pants. "That sucks if that's all that's in-season for girls when boys get … are these dinosaurs in astronaut helmets?"

"And that is what happens when you let a fifteen-year-old boy shop for baby clothes," she said.

Upton smiled at Jay with that, though. "That kid is amazing."

Hank made a little sound of quiet acknowledgement at that behind them. But Ethan really was. He was adjusting to all of this so much better than Erin had thought. He still had some struggles. She knew he still felt a little lonely and left out. That he was still figuring out his place and role in all of it and getting use to the shifts in attention he was getting. He was still a teenager – and a boy. And had the mood swings and moodiness within that. But he was doing so well and he was being a big support. He was finding lots of little ways to try to help and to show his interest about being involved and being a part of their lives.

"Can I hold him?" Kim asked. "Or will he freak out?"

Erin shook her head at that suggestion and leaned forward to pick him up. "He should be fine," she said and gave Eli a big smile as she raised him out of the carrier.

He grinned right back, drool dribbling out of his mouth – his bugged-out eyes distorted behind his coke-bottles and his little ears bent and sticking out against the arms of the specks. He looked like such a little gnome in the cutest possible way.

She held him over to Kim, helping her get him settled and supported in her arms. He just gazed – and drooled – right back up at her as she looked down at him, all smiles as she rocked him a bit.

"He's still so small," Kim said in amazement.

"Mmm ...," Erin allowed, giving Jay a glance because she knew he didn't want to get into their health or their time in the hospital. Or just their arrivial - and Al's departure - generally. "Think that's standard with preemies."

"Eli…as?" Kim asked her, giving her a short glance.

"Eli's what we're using," Erin corrected. "Or EJ. Both."

"He looks so much like both of you," Kim wondered.

Erin gave Hank a glance at that. "Popular opinion in the family seems to be that Eli got stuck with my genes and Mattie's all Jay."

"Definitely the hair," Upton provided from her position over their daughter.

"Hoping she grows out of that," Jay muttered.

Erin gave his bicep a little swat and he smiled at her. "We are not."

Jay looked at Hailey and mouthed quietly, "We are too."

Hailey smiled a bit. "She's way more ginger in this light than in your pictures," she said. "They looked more blonde."

"For now …" Hank graveled from his spot.

He'd already weighed in several times during family time that Ethan's hair darkened up with age. And he pointed out a lot – without acknowledging the various colors of dyes and highlights that had ended up in her hair over the years – that her locks were a lot darker than when she was a teenager too.

"Irish in her," Jay said quietly. Though, again, in their private time, he'd said there were things about Mattie's looks that made him see pieces of his mom too. He'd gotten a little emotional when he'd told her that.

He'd gotten more red-rimmed in the eyes when he'd tried to find a picture of his mom as a little girl to compare — and to show her. And he hadn't had one and Will hadn't gotten back to him about it. And he wouldn't contact his dad about it. And he'd just gotten so angry and frustrated about his whole family situation. And about his mom not being there either. To see and meet the babies. To see and meet Erin. To still be a part of his life. It was the first time Jay had said that — and admitted that — on quite those terms of Erin.

"And Irish eyes," Hailey offered him, giving him a little jab that poked Erin a little the wrong way. It was hard seeing him with another partner, even though she'd technically had time to get used to that – she didn't think she ever really would. Even though she liked that Hailey seemed to try to look out for Jay. That she seemed to have his back and to try to get him and support him. She seemed like a decent partner, a decent cop. It was just that Erin still saw herself in that role — even though she knew now that wasn't ever going to be a feasible possibility ever again.

"They're smiling," Erin added on Upton's behalf. Because they were — they did. Mattie's eyes — and little baby smile — lit up a whole room. But those eyes — they danced and sparkled and smiled and teased just like her Daddy's. She was a little imp.

Jay gave a little smile at that as they looked down at them.

"They always this quiet?" Adam asked.

Erin shook her head hard at that. "This is them in their first twenty minutes whenever they see Daddy—"

"Aww … Daddy …," Adam teased, giving Jay a look and some raises of the shoulders, like it was real funny.

"They just are stunned they have someone else to look at," Jay said.

"And I again try to not take it too personally when they've fussed and screamed and cried all day for me and then are all rainbows and unicorns as soon as he gets in the door," Erin said.

"Only she does take it personally," Jay said, "and the closest thing to 'hello' I get is 'your turn'."

Erin shrugged. "Just tapping you in, dude."

Jay rolled his eyes but stared at how well EJ was doing with Kim. He wasn't giving her any fuss either. "They just get bored," he muttered. "It's getting held differently, by someone else. It's like a reset button."

"Can I hit the reset with this one?" Adam asked, giving Kim a glance – meeting her eyes for a beat too long, they held them. "Babies love me."

"Hey, now," Atwater said. "I wanna hold a baby too if it gets me out of paperwork for a few more minutes."

"There's enough baby to pass around …," Jay said, moving to get Mattie out of her carrier.

"I actually think you're a few short to share with the whole class," Upton said.

"And that is not our problem," Erin said. "I'm definitely not the next person in line to have a scalpel anywhere near my nether-regions ever again."

Atwater and Ruzek both pulled uncomfortable faces and gave Jay a look.

"Things just got real, brother," Kevin said.

"You've got no idea ...," Jay muttered.

"He brought it on himself," Erin said.

He gave her a look and gestured at the babies. "Like you had nothing to do with getting us into this?" he nodded at her. "Partner."

She just smiled. "You all know the drill," she said. "One time thing."

"Hey, worked out, though, right?" Adam tried. "Lil' Ass-Kicker and a Ball Breaker for life all in one go?"

"That's lovely. Thank you, Adam," Erin rolled her eyes.

"Hey, just saying, this lineage, gonna do CPD - Al - proud, right?" he added.

And quiet settled. Uncomfortable silence. And Erin felt like she felt Hank's eyes on her - on the twins - even more. It was like a curtain had just been drawn shut - or opened - that shouldn't have been. A reveal that no one really wanted to acknowledge. And they all stared at the twins.

"Everyone will get a turn with the babies," Jay muttered finally, trying to divert the conversation - and likely also trying to end any more the innuendo or any sort of discussion or reflection on how they'd be avoiding future surprises in the baby department.

And he was right - everyone else could have their turn with the babies. These ones and their own when they had their own unexpected arrivals. Seemed like most cops didn't apply proper police planning when it came to organization in the whole conception department. Maybe some of that got passed over in the rush of things when you were living a life where you were getting shot at by noon too many days of the month.

"Until they start screaming and you're ready for us to leave," Erin mumbled. Because however much they might want their 'turn' now, she was about 98 per cent certain that was going to be how their visit ended. Meltdown time and then her having to load them into the car and get them back into the townhouse and calmed down alone. It actually made strapping a vest on and going out into the field with your gun drawn sound like a way easier job.

Jay seemed a little reluctant to hand off Mattie to Ruzek, but Erin would give to him, that the way he got her in his arms, he'd definitely held a baby or two at some point. And looked pretty comfortable doing it. He swayed her a bit.

"Hey there, Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda. Matilda won't you come a waltzing with me." Adam gave Kim some side-eye as he did it and Jay just met Erin's eyes and gave them a small roll with an accompanying eyebrow raise. Adam better still have a pass from Hank – and Kim better be interested – for that show to continue much longer.

"You know what a 'waltzing Matilda' is, though, huh …?" Atwater said.

"Have you met my baby brother …," Erin muttered. He was an bottomless vat of useless trivia. That she really didn't need to know but he was constantly spouting at her.

"Mattie's what's sticking with her," Jay interjected.

"Sure, just sayin' …," Kevin said.

Erin watched the show then. Listened the the chatter and the goos and gahs. She appreciated them. It wasn't as awkward or forced as she thought it might be. She actually thought Jay might be being more awkward and more forced with it than her. And he was being protective – hovering close like he thought everyone might drop the twins – especially as Kim handed Eli off to Hailey and as Adam continued to rock and sway Mattie with maybe a little too much for their comfort levels. Though, Mattie seemed pretty comfortable. She was smiling and gurgling and giggling at his efforts like this was a great new game that she thought should be adopted at home ASAP. She didn't care what a 'waltzing Matilda' was. She clearly thought the little 'waltz' Adam was doing with her was a good time.

But she only got to watch for so long because then Hank called out: "Erin …"

She looked over at him and he only grunted at her and gestured with his head into his office and trudged in to stand back inside the door. She again squinted at him – but followed over.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF THE CHAPTER (chapter 16 STEPS) IMMEDIATELY BEFORE THIS. PLEASE CHECK IT OUT. I WAS REALLY HAPPY WITH IT. BUT IT APPEARS TO NOT HAVE BUMPED/POSTED ALERT DUE TO LESS THAN 24 HOURS BETWEEN POSTS.**

 **Next scene will be the continuation with Erin/Hank in his office.**

 **I have a couple Hank/Ethan chapters planned to look at where Eth is with his health, school, friends, life and grieving process and processing.**

 **I am playing with a Hank/Erin (and some Eth) scene. And am starting to play with two Erin/Jay scenes.**

 **And finally a Hank scene (with some Eth) and another character.**

 **I was really happy with the previous chapter to this. So please check it out if you missed it.**

 **Readership reviews, comments and feedback are very much appreciated.**


	18. Best Things, Worst Thing

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Erin still tried to smile at Hank as she stepped inside his office but her arms were already crossing, seeing that he'd moved closer to his desk and slacked-faced gaze he'd been giving his grandkids was settling more into his pissed-coffee look. He brushed his thumb against the corner of his mouth as he watched her come in.

"So, I take it this isn't the part where you tell me it's so good to have me back up here you want me back like yesterday?" she mouthed at him.

It only got a smack. But she knew that. Expected that. And the reality was even if Hank could - or somehow did - offer her a job back on Intelligence now she didn't know if she'd jump at it. A part of her being said she absolutely would - with every fibre of herself. That she missed the gig. She missed going on into the streets that way. Being boots on the ground that way. She missed the adrenaline rush. Maybe she even almost missed the connection and bonds that knowing you could be shot at by noon created. The shared experiences that no one who hadn't been there - hadn't had to try to bring justice to their city that way, to protect their city and its citizens that way - would really understand.

But there was this other part of her that knew for those same reasons she couldn't - and shouldn't - be back on the job in quite that way again. At least not in the same unit with Jay. As much as there was the want to have each other's back. To be there beside him and to still be his partner - there were also other people's backs she needed to have now. That they both did. And that meant they couldn't - shouldn't - be both walking into the same kind of danger at the exact same time in the exact same way. It might create a situation neither of them wanted to imagine. But they had. They did. They'd talked about it and mauled on it. And they - she - was still figuring out exactly how to balance that. To be a mom - to be there for her family and her kids - while still being who she was. While still having the kind of purpose she wanted to have - doing the job she wanted - needed - to do to be complete.

She couldn't just be sitting on the sidelines watching Jay go to work every day. To be the one getting to walk into action while she sat behind a desk. It made her think about some of his conversations - and arguments - he'd had with Mouse before Greg re-enlisted. It made her think about the kind of things she'd said to Jay. About what was good for him - versus what was good for Mouse. What Jay wanted versus what Greg wanted. About what each of them needed.

And she still stood by that. But again she was looking at it from a different perspective. There was what Jay wanted in this. And there was what she wanted. But there was also what their family needed. Their relationship. The kids.

And it was fucking complicated. It was a whole different appreciation of the professional versus personal that Hank had preached to her in bringing her on the job. A whole different understanding of why he frowned on in-house romances. On why he didn't want couples on his team. On why he maintained that everyone had their head in the game - so everyone got to go home that night.

And Erin knew - as much as she hated to admit - that Intelligence wasn't the place where she could do all that right now. Even if CPD suddenly decided to bury the hatchet and let her back in. But they weren't far enough away from everything - Justin, Bingham, Woods, Al - for that to happen yet. They may never be anymore. Examples were still being made. And she was still seen as "Voight's girl" in a force where Voight carried more baggage than he did weight anymore. He was an old school, white male cop. He was a target. And being up in the bullpen would be bad for all of them. Her family and her second family.

And she shouldn't have made the quip now, because he clearly wasn't interested in hearing it. It clearly wasn't what it was about. But maybe it was. Her and Jay were creating another distraction in the bullpen and Hank had something up his ass about it.

"We aren't staying long," she pressed at him. "Maybe twenty minutes. Jay said he checked with you. That you said it'd be okay."

Hank only grunted at her and gestured at the door. But that just made her cross her arms even tighter. She squinted at him more.

"Is this about Olive?" she pressed, annoyance growing, as she did a catalogue of what might've happened between when Jay had called to say they could come in and when she'd managed to get the twins in the car. She exhaled hard at the realization that she'd made the mistake of picking up Olive's call while she was doing the load up.

"Hank, seriously," she muttered. "It annoys the fuck out of me when she makes calls like that. Is she calling you and telling you what you and Eth should wear to the fucking breakfast with Santa and the Dinosaurs?"

"She just wants to do her photo thing," he muttered at her and again gestured at the door. "Shut the door, Erin."

"Fine," Erin said – ignoring the door. "Take her pictures. But she doesn't need to be calling and making me feel like I don't know how to dress my kids. Like I take them out into public looking like garbage. I'm sorry if me and Jay aren't going to suddenly start outfitting ourselves like we're some sort of Nashville Base Millenials turned … I don't even know. She doesn't need to be running to you every time she thinks I give her some attitude. It's worse than Justin and he way he'd run his mouth."

He gave a smack. "Didn't hear a peep out of her about whatever you two got into this time."

Erin stopped. She stared at him at that. And she tried to process. Tried to re-read the situation. And she sucked in a breath at the next option - one that would really get him looking like that.

"Ethan?" she asked. He'd been lagging so much lately. There'd been appointments. She was supposed to have him later that afternoon.

He nodded at the door again. "Erin. Shut the door?"

She still didn't budge. She stayed put. She tried to read him and his body language more.

Something was up. It'd been up since she came up the stairs. It was up in the way he was looking at her. At Mattie and Eli. The way he was staring at her now.

"Hank," she warned.

And he moved and went and shut the door himself. Her eyes followed him as he did – and they landed through the window back into the bullpen. They met Jay's – him staring back at her with his own concerned questioning creasing at his brow.

"Why don't you sit down," Hank said.

She didn't. "I'll stand."

His eyes stayed on her and he went and put his ass against the edge of his desk. His arms crossing too. And he stared some more. His chin elongating as he did. His tongue sticking off into his cheek again. And she knew – something was up. Something was bad.

"I need to know when the last time was you had contact with your mother," he graveled at her.

And she felt that like a kick to the chest. And she felt instant anger. "Why are you asking me that?" she demanded.

He kept her eyes and nodded at her. "Erin," he said more evenly – more firmly. "Does she know you're back in the city?"

"No," she spat at him. Hard. It was a trust issue. Him asking that it said he didn't trust her. He didn't believe the discussions they'd had and the promises she'd made. All the work she'd put in to turn things around back here - home - with her real family. The necessary - and mandatory - sacrifices and decisions she'd made in being able to do that.

His eyes stayed on her again. She knew he was assessing the truth of that statement. Looking her in the eyes and deciding if he believed what she was saying and that hurt even more.

"Does she know about the babies?"

"NO!" she nearly yelled at him that time. No. She couldn't - hadn't - brought herself to tell Bunny. She hadn't known how and it'd grown into not wanting to. The reflection on everything - her whole childhood, everything Bunny had ever done to her in her three-decades of life - she couldn't bring her into it. She hated herself for even thinking that she might've wanted to. But Bunny wasn't a mother. She wasn't going to be a grandmother. It was that simple. Even though it wasn't. It hurt too.

Hank's eyes still stayed there on her. "Erin, I understand. If when you were pregnant, if you wanted – needed – to—"

"I needed her out of my life," she did yell at him that time.

His cocked stare at her stayed on her but she could tell with the slight rock of his head that she'd raised her office loud enough that the others outside the door had heard. That they'd glanced over to see what was going on. That they were likely looking in at them now. Or even more awkwardly trying to act like they weren't listening and were still even remotely interested in interacting with the babies.

"Sit down," Hank told her flatly.

She still didn't listen. She was still hugging her arms around herself. Tighter now. Because she could feel where this was going and her mind was reeling.

And Hank rose from where he was perched and tugged at her elbow. Tugging her closer to the couch as he sat and somehow – she wasn't sure how – she managed to lower herself there too. But she just kept staring straight ahead. Trying to keep a straight face along with it.

She felt Hank adjusting himself on the couch. She knew he was angled so he was facing her. But she couldn't look at him.

"She's back in town, Erin," he finally said. She felt his hand tap at her knee. But she didn't react. So his hand moved up her arm instead and placed it over where she was wringing her own hands. Not letting him take her hand. But it still went over it. Engulfed it.

"Who told you that …" she managed.

"I ran into her," he said. "The pharmacy. Compounding pharmacy."

"Why was she there …?" Erin managed. "You don't just go to a compounding pharmacy," she processed out loud. "Someone like her doesn't just … go to that kind of pharmacy."

"We didn't get into that," Hank said.

And she managed to look at him. His face looked even more slack and sad than it had been when he was staring at the twins.

"Methadone …," she said. "Heroin. Smack. Again."

He clutched her hand more. "We didn't get into it." But his face said he'd seen enough to know too. "But I had E with me. He put the pieces together. Knew who she was. Remembered."

"And I'm picking him up tonight …," Erin managed in slow motion. Hank was trying to get to her before Ethan said something instead. Before Ethan ran his mouth and was the one dropping that bombshell on her. Before all this sent her little brother into a tailspin of worry and insecurity and abandonment issues and pedestal plunges. When she felt like she was teetering at the edge of wanting to do the same kind of nose dive too. She felt like she might be sick.

"She asked about you," Hank said.

"You didn't tell her anything," Erin said flatly. But it was also a plea – even though she knew the answer.

Hank wouldn't tell her a thing. Hank wanted Bunny out of her life from the time she was 14-years-old. He would've preferred she'd never had any more contact with Bunny after him and Camille took her in. He fought tooth and nail to keep them apart. To push Bunny out of her life and to cut the cancer from it. And he was right. It'd been so hard - because she was her mother, as much as she wasn't - but Hank was right. It'd taken her all her adult life thus far to realize that. It'd taken being pregnant with babies of her own to accept it. To process it. To understand it. But he was right.

"Told her I didn't want her in my city," Hank said. "Reminded her of our last conversation. Agreement."

"Conversation …?"

"To keep away from you," Hank said. But Erin knew it'd be a lot more than that. "The world of hurt she'd be looking at if she knocked you down again."

"If she's back, if she thinks I'm back," Erin muttered and pulled her hand out from under his to press it against her forehead. "She's going to come looking for me. She'll be outside the townhouse." She knew where the townhouse was. She knew where her and Jay lived. Where Jay worked. Where Hank lived. Worked. There wasn't an easy way to hide from her. To avoid her. Not with two babies. Erin looked at Hank. "She's going to see the twins."

"Erin, I'm not going to—"

She stared at him. "So you're going to what, Hank?" she demanded.

And he smacked but drew out of her space a bit. And she shook her head.

"IA's still all over you. The Ivory Tower. You're barely holding onto your job. Ethan. We've got enough fucking bad choices made in this family that we're still paying for. So what are you going to do? How's it going to help any of us? Really?"

He just stared at her. And she shook her head again.

"This is not supposed to be happening," she muttered and ran her hand through her hair. Even though she'd known from the get that eventually this would happen. Somehow, some day. But she'd thought – hoped – it wouldn't be now. Not yet. She'd hoped more that it wouldn't be ever. She didn't think she was in a place she could handle this – do it.

"We can get a restraining order," Hank offered flatly. Unimpressed with the option and the suggestion coming from his own mouth.

"Yea, those do a lot of good," Erin whispered.

She'd seen - lived - the grinder Bunny had put Hank and Camille through in them gaining guardianship and custody of her. All the roadblocks she'd created in letting her have a better life. The ways she still tried to bring her down and fuck with her. The new and inventive ways she found to lie to her and hurt her. Over and over again. And Erin had let her. Bunny always found a way to sneak back in. To push and drag her. To poke and prod. To pick at wounds. She never stayed away long. She couldn't. Bunny couldn't help herself. And she didn't care what a judge or justice system or the police said. She always found some way to manipulate the system. To live by her own rules. To run another con and another game. And never get caught (even when she did). She never paid for it. She always got away with it. And then after creating that explosion in everyone's life - so much fucking chaos - then she upped and disappeared again after sending you head over ass. And she was going to try to do it again. Now. Erin could feel it. She hadn't expected - hadn't wanted it - to happen this soon. She hadn't wanted it to happen at all. She didn't know how she was supposed to protect her children from this. She'd barely protected herself from it for years.

"No judge will sign off on that until she … does something," she muttered.

They sat there. And she kept trying to process how to handle this. She didn't know how. And it felt like just knowing it – that Bunny was here, that this was real, that this was going to creep up and smack her in the face again – it was knocking the air out of her. It ached. All that strength she was starting to feel like she was regaining. How much she felt like she was starting to get family and motherhood and raising babies and having kids figured out. It felt like that was just getting robbed from her again.

And she looked at Hank. "I cut her out of my life," she said and she felt her eyes rimming as she said it. Her vision blurring. Hank's face going in and out of focus and all she could see was that frown and worry creasing in his mouth even more. And he moved closer to her on the couch.

"I told you," she managed and shook her head hard to try not to cry. "I made that promise to you. To Ethan. That commitment. That you are my family. And I did it for them too," she said and looked behind her shoulder – through the window. Her eyes glassing even more at the sight of her babies in other people's arms. Jay seeing her again and she could tell he was struggling how to react to whatever was going on in there. So she moved her eyes to gaze down. Hank's hand over top of hers again. "I don't want her in their lives. I don't want all that - all that bullshit she brings - around them."

She managed to look at Hank. "We don't have Jay's dad in their lives. He doesn't want that in their lives right now either. You're all we've got. You're the grandparent they've got. You're our family."

And Hank only nodded at her. And she didn't know why that made the tears come out. But it did. And he leaned to press his lips against her hair. And he stroked it. Until he gazed at her.

"You're still about the best thing that every happened to me, Kiddo," he rasped. "Raising you's still about the best thing I've done. Gotten a whole lot out of it. More than I gave. So if you need me—"

She shook her head. "There's nothing to think about," she said. "I'll just take care of it. Me and Jay … we'll handle it."

She didn't know how. She didn't know what they'd do. How she'd process this. Or just how the fuck she'd handle this – personally. The way it was feeling right now. The outright fear. The way it made her want to pack up the kids and move – right then. And maybe she would. Maybe they'd go over to Hank's – until they handled this. She didn't know. But they'd figure it out. They had to. Because Bunny wasn't going to get near her kids. Bunny wasn't going to bring all the chaos and pain into their lives that she'd brought into hers. She wouldn't do that to them. That wasn't going to be a part of their childhood.

And Hank just gave her hair another little stroke and then rose. He squeezed her shoulder.

"I'll get him for you," he said.

And she only nodded. Because that was about the most they could do right now. That at least he'd have her back right now. He'd have the babies' backs. And hopefully he didn't go blaring out of there to do something stupid to their family either.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Bunny fall-out will be dealt with but the next chapters will likely be ones mentioned previously. Looking forward to doing some exploration about where Eth is at in all this. So excited about those chapters with him and Hank. Also trying to figure out something for a Jay/Ethan scene.**

 **Might go back in time to do the Hank/Bunny run-in. But not sure.**

 **Readership reviews, comments and feedback are appreciated.**


	19. Open Doors

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Hank shifted his gaze out the window from where he was doing dishes. Had been feeling more than a little peeved at Magoo. Managed to get out of work at a decent hour. Had made a beeline for home.

But hadn't heard boo from E for hours.

At the end of the school day had a text saying the kid saying he was going up to the city library. Teen game drop-in thing that he'd been taking some interest in with all this design board game and video games and interactive stuff they had the kids doing at the museum club. Getting really engaged in all the mechanics and strategy in all that. And hadn't been doing much to discourage it.

Kid's occupational and cognitive therapists were big on the whole game thing in improving how the kid processed and connected things. Organized his thoughts. Memory. Even dexterity with handling the cards and the pieces with his tremor. And Hank was onboard with that. Didn't mind teaching the kid to play cards. Didn't mind watching E figure out the chessboard. Don't checkers and backgammon. Even endured E and his Monopoly and Clue obsessions. To a point. That was a little much on his patience most nights. But still tried to make that time for the kid. Be there for the kid. In case E did decide he wanted to talk. About anything. But usually they just played. At least they were sharing time. Space.

Wasn't that kind of stuff they got into at this game drop-in thing, though. All these games Hank had never heard of. Though, E had made a point of dragging him into some of these fucking hobby shops and comic stores and game café things when they were out and about on their grocery and errand runs. About as close as he seemed to get to socializing with anyone anymore. Keeping tabs on the neighborhood and the people who were moving into it. And pushing the old guard out. E and anything collectible. Got the kid all twitchy. Best they avoided those shops all together. But good for E to have something. Distract himself a bit.

Still didn't mean he recognized any of the games. Even though E pulled things off the shelf and told him these were the kind of card games kids were playing now. Apparently a deck of cards and some euchre, pinochle and poker in the lunch room wasn't enough anymore. Though, he was teaching Magoo some of that stuff over all this Technicolor cartooned $20 buck for a pile of cardboard crap. Least E apparently recognized that was a fucking ridiculous price-point for a card game too. Hadn't dropped any of his allowance on any of these games yet. But had started swinging over to this drop-in once or twice a month if he was feeling up to it and had the time and the energy between all the other shit the kid wanted to be doing and needed to be doing.

Didn't mind him going and hanging out at the library anyway. A fucking blessing that one of his kids actually knew where that was and had an interest in going there and hanging out there.

Oddball thing to do. But knew where he got that one. Cami. Though even Cami would've preferred to go and walk up and down the aisles at the used book shop taking every fucking thing off the shelf and reading the back – didn't on some pile of books and breezing through a couple chapters before the shop-keep caught her and kicked her out. Told her to pay her dollar or get out of there. It'd only be about at that point she'd mosey over to the library to see if she could find whatever she'd lost herself in for free. Some way to spend an afternoon as a kid. Though, whenever he'd poked at her ribs about it, she'd always been quick to point out that it was a whole lot better use of time than him running around with his buddies looking for trouble, washing the Old Timers' cars at the Social Club and picking them up beers and ciggies – more than sneaking some cans and butts in the process.

So she was right. As usual. She was good at that. Always had been. Had a knack at knocking him into his place and preaching some sense in her little speeches ever since they were little kids themselves. E's age. And still had some know-how to what she went on about. That there were a whole lot worse things E could be doing this his free-time.

And, hell, if the kid was in the fucking library, maybe some books and reading might rub off and stick with him at some point too.

So the library wasn't the problem. Game drop-in wasn't the problem. Magoo being the strange little creature he was having to figure out how to raise when he knew Cami wouldn't related to him a hell of a lot better than he ever could no matter how hard he fucking tried – wasn't the problem.

Problem was that hadn't heard from the kid since he'd gone over.

Knew it was about a ninety-minute program they had over there for the kids. So had been more than expecting to get home and find E there. Not just find E there but find him having gotten his chores for the afternoon done. Figured he mustn't have too much homework assigned that night if he was headed off to the game thing. Figured he must even be feeling half-ways decent. So had even thought with the kind of week him and E had both been having – whole fucking fall – that he might give a read on where his son's energy was at and offer to take him over to the wing shack to suck some back and watch the Cubbies try to keep it going up on the big screen.

A treat. A fucking break. Some distraction. For them both.

Not that Hank would get to be as distracted as he wanted – beyond the distraction, tether his kids and grandkids provided. But wouldn't have been able to put back much more than the wings. The way E looked at him anymore when he poured himself a drink. Happens though when he'd gone and let himself fall into a hole and come home pissed drunk in front of his kid. Both of his kids had run their mouths at him about it. Blow ups with Erin and E about it. Had tried to put them in their place. Parent. Child. But you could only sy so much when you'd done wrong. As a parent. You can't be like that in front of your kids. And can't pull the whole do as I say thing, not as I do. Not when you've preached at your adult kid – kids – about old habits. Not when you've gone through teens with drinking and drug problems. Had a kid in jail because of it. Another facing a life of working at keeping clean and sober. Not when you work a job where there's too many people living at the bottom of a bottle.

He wasn't that kind of cop. Wasn't that kind of man. But, fuck, these days he was looking for ways to take the edge off. To just find the numbness. Job wasn't giving that outlet in quite the same way anymore. It was different. Could feel himself needing to be careful. Keep himself tethered some. Because there were more moments where he wanted to go back to some of his other old ways and old habits. To really live up to his old school cop with the bad reputation. But couldn't' do that when he had eyes on them the way he did. Even with 'friends' trying to be in high places. But that was fucking politick he didn't have much interest in playing. But when you had a sick kid at home – when you had three grandkids you wanted to see grow up and help out with – you needed to do what you needed to do to keep the job.

He'd kept the job – got this chance – cuz of Al. So couldn't fuck that up. Al had given that to him. Let him have it. Needed to honor that memory the best he could. But still was doing a lot of figuring out of the how. Best ways to do that. Wanted to say it was doing the job. Doing the job right, though. Way Al would've wanted. Both old school. Old guard. Old dogs. Same but different. Different cops. Different convictions. Codes the same but written in different print. Different men.

But needed to honor that. So couldn't just have the job being the anchor. The kids. The grandkids. Used them a lot to try to find the compass. The distraction. To take the edge off. And some times it helped. Sometimes it really fucking helped. E and Erin's smiles. Those eyes and dimples on them. Cheered him up. A whole lot. But these days just was salt in the wounds too. Over and over. Al. Cami. Justin. Even the twins these days. Thought of all of them. And then some. Had him thinking of his dad too a lot. The kind of cop he was. The kind of man he was. How he'd made it to grandfather and his pops hadn't. Didn't get to meet any of his kids. Didn't get to meet any of these grandkids. His great-grandkids.

And had to do some wondering about what all his pops would think about the life he'd made. The man he'd become. The cop he was. The code he lived by.

Whether he'd be proud. Or whether he was doing it all wrong.

Some days anymore it sure felt like Cami and Al and his pops would all be telling him that he was doing it all wrong. That he wasn't doing much for any of them to be proud about.

And that was enough to make you reach for another drink. Even if it was a weak fucking brew at a chicken wing shack. Like a pot-bellied chicken shit.

But there E came in. Moral check and moral compass. Because the kid would just look at him with that face. Cami and Al and his pops all staring him down even for sucking back some kind of watered-down piss.

And he'd stop. Order the Coke instead. Or just a cold, black coffee.

But wasn't even likely going to have to struggle with balancing distraction with numbness that night. Because he hadn't arrived home to any kid. And that meant he wasn't feeling much like taking E out for any kind of distraction or treat. Rewarding the boundaries E was pushing and the buttons he was poking at and the spin-cycle he was in in trying to figure out and process his own grief.

Instead all he'd gotten in to a mutt that was dancing around his feet like he was ready to piss himself. A sink full of dishes from breakfast that E had managed to talk himself out of doing that morning on the promise they'd be done as soon as he got home that afternoon. But the kid was AWOL and not dinging Hank back on the battery of texts he'd sent.

Bear's bark out back, though, and the dog charging at the gate as it sagged open got him to smile a bit.

"Mmm …," he allowed with a little head shake, soaping up his coffee mug and watching.

There was the hold-up and the likely reasoning around the radio-silence. Still be having more than a few words about it. But could see what was going on now.

E had his little girl friend with him. Caroline.

Maybe the kid was actually starting to realize that that girl was showing a good bit of interest in him. At least as a friend. That age – likely a bit more than that. Bit of a crush and some puppy love in that little thing's eyes.

Hank had seen it. Maybe E finally was clueing in too. And maybe the kid was even starting to realize he had some interest there too. Letting himself admit it. Rather than deny, deny, deny. That was fine. Deny. Just didn't go sneaking around. Then they'd have another set of problems. Trust issues. Just him being smart issues.

Wasn't sure how much he had to worry about there. E had had his heart broken some by Eva. Knew that whole situation had confused the kid. Knew he was still hurting from it. Angry about it. And wasn't over it yet. And was still trying to be friends with the girl too.

E was right when he quoted off about it being 'complicated' and shut down after that. Wasn't going to say much more to old Dad. Didn't think Dad got it. Or had been there.

E had all sorts of confused ideas about him and his mom or Olive and Justin and high school romances. And he hadn't really figured out how to tell E that what him and Cami had hadn't really been a bed of roses. Wasn't some grand romance. They were stupid, dumb-ass, clueless teen-aged kids too. That'd hurt each other and broken each other's hearts along the way too. Both of them.

There'd been ups and downs in high school. Just like there'd been ups and downs in their whole marriage. That they sure hadn't always been together through high school even though they'd run around – and snuck around – a lot together in it too. But they'd both had their other flings too. Breaks and explorations of what else was out there. Supposed neither of them had really found anything better. Thought it was more that neither of them had ever found something as comfortable or natural – for all the discomfort they caused each other and how unnatural their polar opposites presented to outsiders. But for what they were and they weren't – good and bad – he didn't have any kind of delusion that most people ended up marrying their high school sweetheart.

It was actually kind of laughable that any of the kids thought of him and Cami as high school sweethearts. Wasn't entirely accurate. Most people who knew them from then would probably say the same.

She was way too much of a ball buster. Didn't make anything easy. Made him work for all of it – the life he'd got, that she'd helped him make - every step of the way. But he'd kept going back for more. And that had a lot more to do with friendship – and proximity, ease - than love for a real long time. Sure wasn't at fifteen he'd realized he was in love with her. Sure wasn't fifteen when he figured out that love had a whole lot to do with the friendship, proximity and ease. Shared experiences and moments. Working through shit together. Those were big parts of the foundation. But you don't quite get that as a kid. Takes a whole lot longer than that. Again, longer - before either of them really admitted that it was love to themselves.

But Hank thought he had some perspective on Magoo. And Eva. Knew he'd had some puppy love for the girl. Knew that she'd been a friend when E had needed a friend to get through some of what he was trying to get through. A sounding board. Knew that having that kind of sounding board can bred a whole lot of closeness and growing feelings in your life – when you're that age. He'd been there. Knew that it was part of the reason him and Cami had ended up together. But E and Eva weren't him and Cami.

Wanted to say that Eva was a little more than E could handle. She was more grown-up than him in some ways. Relationships, emotions. Thought maybe a lot of girls were on some level at that age. Street smart in a different way than E too. Different life experiences even though they had some similarly shared baggage.

But things did get 'complicated'. High school – teen years – were. Seemed like putting a street smart kid into Ignatius and letting them try to figure out how to fit in just made it even more complicated. Had seen Erin go through that too. And thought maybe Eva was going through similar things with this generation of kids. More complicated generation too with all their fucking phones and social media.

E was construing it as when Eva said she wasn't interested in being boyfriend-girlfriend she really just meant she wasn't interested in being his girlfriend. And maybe there was some truth to that. Maybe a lot of truth. But Hank also thought the girl had just gotten herself in a situation with some of those Ignatius kids where she was trying to fit in in the wrong ways and had fallen into something to try to do that. And by the sounds of it it'd blown up a bit in her face. Again, like it seemed most things did with the bursary and subsidy kids that Ignatius brought in to try to still look like it was an inclusive school representative of the City of Chicago.

Knew too that his situation – media situation, Al in the news, names and faces getting in the papers – hadn't helped things at all for their relationship. Or friendship. That it just made her pops and grandmother have a whole lot of opinions about a whole lot of things. And supposed they had a right to that. Their neighborhood. What their family had been through. The kinds of cops they'd dealt with. They were going to have opinions. And understood they'd be protective of their only daughter – granddaughter. Knew they saw Eva's time at Ignatius as a bit of her ticket out. Opportunity for her to gave a step up and a better life than what they might be able to provide her with otherwise. Family didn't want that getting messed up any by them associating with 'those kinds' of police.

And could only say so much. Hadn't said too much. Had a short man-to-man with her father but wasn't much in the mood for talking. Just been clear he didn't want Eva coming around this way anymore and didn't want E going over their way. And Hank had respected that. Laid down the law for his kid. Had gone over like a lead balloon. Add it to the list of things he'd 'screwed up' in his kid's life. But both Eva and E seemed to be abiding by those rules. Though, E said they still talked a bit at school. Not much. Eva was off in AP courses. E was barely scraping by even on the days he did get into school.

So after all that – fifteen-year-old kid trying to figure out all the different layers of what had happened there – could respect that E wasn't exactly gazing at Caroline with puppy dog eyes either. Probably should appreciate his son was proceeding with some caution. Would likely have a lot of parents tell him he should be grateful that he wasn't having to deal with and police a teen-aged relationship and dating. But it wasn't really about that.

It really was – girl friend or girlfriend – these days Hank didn't really give a shit. Just really needed E to have some friends. Kid really, really needed that. Someone. Something. His age. Bit more than him. Bit more than Erin. Someone to have his back in a different way. Someone he could talk to about things differently. Connect with. As much as he could hope that E would find any kids in his age bracket who could relate to any of what he was fucking going through. Almost had to hope that E couldn't find kids like that. Magoo had too much on his plate for any fifteen-year-old kid.

Hank's thin smile faded a bit as he watched the way his son was moving in the back. Bear jumping at him and E fumbling around to keep his feet on the ground – both of their feet on the ground. More ordering at his mutt to sit than giving him the petted greeting the dog was looking for. Though, Caroline obliged Bear with that before following after E as he popped the door on the shed and popped in to get something – the girl loitering near the door while he was in there.

Hank could see even from that distance, though, that E was hurting. Bad by the looks of it. Wasn't entirely surprised by that. He'd been watching the tracker on E's phone when his son had decided to ignore his texts. Could see that E was headed home but pretty much at a snail's pace. Knew he must be on foot for that. And knew the kind of week – month – E was having.

These days Ethan was just a walking flare. More often then not wasn't even that he was a walking flare. The symptoms bugging him waxed and waned. Sometimes it'd only hit him like a truck for a day or so. But others it'd be days. There wasn't enough for a gap between any of it for the docs to be saying this was separate exacerbations. Needed at least thirty days between each to get that. Instead it just felt like an ongoing progressing that they were waiting to plateau. And that was hard too.

The frequency and severity of the symptoms the kid was getting had him laid up a lot. Had the kid swinging between tears and temper tantrums with how frustrated he got with himself and his body that wouldn't co-operate. Legs and hands that wouldn't work. Mind that wouldn't think straight. Brain fog that wouldn't concentrate for him. Eyes that wouldn't focus and couldn't see right. Pain and fatigue that made a lot of days really hard for the kid to push through even though E was a fighter.

A lot of days where Hank just had to deal him not to push it. Not to over do it. To measure and plan. To take his breaks and his rests and his naps. To make the calls himself in the morning. Been a few already where he just didn't wake the kid up in the morning and send him out the door. Instead went into the kid's room and turned off the alarm. Let him sleep. Stop it before he burned out – and burned down and up in all of it.

All the stress and changes were enough. Add in the heat and humidity that summer. The fucking bipolar disorder the climate had that fall. Throw in their endless medical appointments and therapists for every fucking thing under the sun combined with some of the medication adjustments and off-label crap they'd agreed to try in finding something that might create the illusion they had this anywhere under control for the kid. And then layer in Ignatius' overburdened workload – and a whole lot of extra-curricular that was a whole lot more important to E maintaining something that felt like a regular and fulfilling life than any kind of algebra.

E was exhausted. The kid – his body, his illness, his condition – just couldn't keep up with any of it. That hurt. Hurt a lot. Hurt Hank too.

He watched out the window. Could see just enough that it looked like E was dangling some fishing lure for the girl to look at. Couldn't think of too many girls who'd be too interested in that.

Though – could think of one – Camille.

But didn't get the impression that whatever conversation was going on about E's fishing gear quite held Caroline's attention in the way it might've Cami's because they were out of the shed and locking it back up and headed up to the porch.

Whole lot of noise as the two of them came in – along with the mutt. Chatter, chatter. Though, sounded a bit more like Magoo was doing some more than Caroline. Kid might be nervous, though. First time over – as far as Hank knew. Better be her fucking first time over. Be another problem if he found out E had been having any other kids over without looping him into that decision and conversation. Supervision. Especially girls.

Heard the door to the bathroom out in the breezeway – Cami's old sunroom – close up. And it was E who staggered into the kitchen first – some over-priced sugar drink masquerading as caffeine in his hand, neither of which the kid should be having, especially at that time of time.

He gave Hank a bit of a surprised look. Earned a smack.

"You not hearing your phone?" Hank nodded at him.

E fumbled a bit and pulled it out of his coat pocket. Another wave of guilt washed over his face. "I put it on silent in the library," he muttered and fiddled with the settings. "I just forgot."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed and gestured at the dishes he was still working through. "Forget this too?"

"Noo …," Ethan muttered, pulling the chair out and settling himself down on it. "I said I'd do them when I got home."

Hank observed his body language and eyes even more now that he was in the same room.

The kid struggled to pull his crutches off his forearms and nearly flopped forward to hastily try to tug up his pant leg so he could reach his FES device and try to shuck off his compression stockings too in the process.

Could tell that neither of them were giving him much relief that way. Had seen the way he was putting his weight on his crutches out back. Looked like they were about all that was holding him up. His upper body – not his legs. And as strong as E had built up his core and his arms – as much as a kid in his sickly situation could – also knew that carrying himself that way was an added layer of exhaustion for the kid. Would to anyone.

Hank gave an internal sigh and went over to his kid. Could tell E was in a hurry to get this done before Caroline came out of the john. Trying to hide from her just how he was feeling. Not letting her get a full glimpse of everything he had going on. Wasn't too bright. The girl wasn't blind or dumb. And not a great foundation of half-truths in any kind of relationship – friendship or otherwise. But everyone had their secrets. And needed their personal space and privacy. Tried to respect E in that but also tried real hard to figure out as a parent – an adult – how to get him to disclose what was going on with him. To who and to when. To have some transparency in it. To be honest about it. At least with the people closest to him. Who cared about him, loved him. So they could have his back better in trying to help him get through this. To live like this.

Hank dropped down to his knees in front of him and rolled up the leg, gripping at the top of the compression sock that was supposed to be providing him some relief to his weak and aching muscles. But clearly were providing enough agitation that day that E just wanted them off – now. So he started working at rolling the first one back down E's leg. His feet were ice blocks. Another sign that he was having a rough day.

Should've known. E had been complaining about the fall temperatures and dampness starting to finally set in the Windy City of a few weeks now. Kid's thick fall jacket – basically a winter weight for most people – had already made its appearance. And the beanie and gloves were out. Heating blanket and oil heater plugged back into his room.

Fifty-four that day and E had still come into the back lot in his beanie. Wasn't any kind of fashion statement for E in trying to be hip or trendy. Not trying to match his sister and her fucking beanies flopped all over hair she had hardly taken a comb through that day that she seemed to think was appropriate attire from about October through April. Not trying to match his Uncle Al's just don't give a shit – and hid the bald spot – hat either. Knew E would much rather have on his Cubs cap for this Series run. But his own balding head, mangled, nerve-damaged ears and internal core temperature weren't having anything to do with that. At least with the fucking beanies he could pretend like he was trying to be trendy. Try to look like he was fitting in – no matter how much he wasn't.

"You forget the rule about having friends over?" he asked, as he worked at getting the socks removed. At least he remembered one rule – E's hand had gone up and snagged the hat from his head, trying to smooth down the thinned out tuffs and patches he had up there.

But what Hank got was a wounded look. But didn't argue about getting the help that'd been imposed on him. Eyes, though, told him that he wanted it hurried up.

"She's not staying," he pleaded. "She just needed to use the bathroom and I just was gonna grab something for her."

Hank grunted some acknowledgement at that. Didn't sound like a spur of the moment excuse that he'd just come up with to try to cover his own ass. But they'd also be going over the rules about having friends over – especially girl friends – after Caroline had left the building.

E bent forward to try to un-strap the foot drop support pulling up his sagging ankle on the one side. Knew he'd also be reaching to try to yank off the electrode stimulators too. Likely to hard and too fast. So Hank batted his hands away.

"Leave it," he instructed. It got another wounded look. But Hank ignored that. Worked to adjust the tightness on the brace instead. Would deal with the rest of it later. E wanted quick. Getting him disconnected from the fucking technology wasn't quick. Quick was just adjusting the tension on the brace to try to pull up E's foot a bit more for him so at least it wouldn't be dragging around on him while he crutched.

Finished, he started to roll the pant leg back down.

"I want to take the stimulator off," E muttered and nearly knocked heads with him in his effort to bend down again.

Hank reached up and just caught him before they did butt heads. Looked into his eyes. They were dilated and glassy. More signs his nervous system was fatigued and not co-operating that afternoon. And a sign he'd likely taken one of his pain pills. He was stoned. Exhausted and rundown and stoned.

His boy was tired. Struggling. And must really like this girl – or be trying to do some kind of solid for her – to be letting her see him like this. He usually did his best to hid from everyone and everything when he was at the point he was going this sideways.

"You okay?" Hank nodded at him. "You think you're really up to having a friend over?"

And the glassy eyes watered a bit. "I want the stimulator off," E pressed out again with gritted teeth.

Hank allowed him a grunt and patted at his cheek. "Going to have to take it off during your turn in the can," he rasped at him. Pant leg of his uniform gear wasn't going to have enough give to get up that far.

E sighed but let him get the legs back in place for him. Bear was right there panting in his face as he did. Really checking in on the situation. Always was with Magoo. Likely had spotted – smelled – before Hank even had that E was rundown that night.

Hank watched his kid as he finished up. E just staring at his mutt. His hands in the cut-off gloves tremoring, clutched tight against his thighs as he waited for Hank to get done.

"You take your afternoon dose?" he rasped a bit more quietly to the kid.

E glanced down at his hands and clenched them tighter. "Yea …," he muttered.

Hank grunted. "Need help peeling them off?"

Could tell the kid's fingers wouldn't be working to manage that dexterity on his own either right then. Kid's tremor had been real, real bad that summer. Now fall. Docs said some of it was the anxiety and stress. That it was emotional and mental and the burden that was creating on a nervous system that couldn't process all the biochemicals that sent releasing wonky in his system. But also knew they were in a balancing act right now of new meds exasperating some symptoms while they were supposed to be better controlling others. So then they go and have to fuck around with his other medications to try to find other new meds or stronger doses to control shit like this. So there were a lot of days – or at least periods of them – that looked like E was dealing more with Parkinson's than M.S. Though, Hank had seen enough M.S. patients – more geriatric ones than his son's age or anywhere in that realm even – to know that as the disease progressed the tremors and involuntary movements got worse too.

Gloves were supposed to help. Calm them. Just like the compression stockings on his legs and his weight blanket when he slept. But didn't seem to do much of that. They'd tried different kinds of gloves. Different sports. Weighted. Different levels of tension and compression and support. They tried weight cutlery and different kinds of holder things on his pens and pencils. At this point the gloves were more to protect his palms on the days he was really supporting himself with the crutches. Maybe the black and bulk of them hid the tremor a bit to onlookers. But didn't think it did much to hide it from E's consciousness.

And the kid just shook Hank's head at his offer to pull them off for him.

So Hank stood back up just as the toilet off behind them flushed. Backed back over to the sink as the sink in the other room ran. Went back to what he was doing just as Caroline shyly stepped into the kitchen. Bear ramming his nose into her – and her crotch – again to get a read on the situation.

"Bear," Hank barked and gave the dog a snap and a point over by where he was at.

"It's alright," Caroline said, though. Was busy stroking at the mutt's snout and he was just soaking it up. She gave Ethan a look of her own – a clear assessment at him and where he was sitting and then cast a shy look Hank's way. "Hi, Mr. Voight …"

He gave her a grunt. "Caroline."

Girl was still in her school's uniform too. Kilt with her school colors against the polo that he gave a once-over to get a read on the logo embroidered there. Bulky bracelets and bangles of beadwork and trinkets and knick-knacks clacking on both her wrists. Sparkly headband on the top of her head. Fashion statement, he thought. Didn't think that pixie crop she had really needed anything to be holding bangs or anything else away from her face.

E either caught Hank's examination of his friend or Caroline's examination – concern – of him himself. And he struggled to get himself to his feet.

"So I'll get it," he said hastily.

Hank and Caroline both watched as he clattered out of the kitchen. Just off into the den – office. And then stared at each other for a moment until Caroline tried to distract herself with petting at the dog again. Though, Bear looked like he was really trying to decide if he should follow after his boy or keep soaking up this free attention.

"Can sit if you want," Hank offered.

That got another shy smile but she did nudge herself over to the little kitchen table and eased into the chair E had vacated. Bear was right there with her again, still looking for the pats on his big skull. Setting it on her knee and giving her those puppy dog eyes of his. Like he was real hard-done-by and didn't get a whole lot of pets and loves and walks and runs in the back lots every other day of the year.

Hank gave Camille's office turned kid's homework and laundry folding space another glance as E clattered around in there even more. Sounded like he was in a bit of a frenzy trying to grab whatever he was grabbing quick. Also sounded like he was going to be leaving a mess in there that was going to take him longer to clean up than it was for him to pull apart.

He turned back to Caroline. "You want something to drink," he offered.

"Oh … no … thanks …" she managed, giving a shake at some froufrou, bright pink strawberry concoction in a plastic cup at him. Straw coming up out the top with smudges of faded, glossy lip polish on it. Likely a eight-buck sugar coma.

There was another bang from the den and Hank glanced. About ready to go over and bark at his son about what the hell was he doing in there. But then they all gave pause.

"Dadd-e—" his boy called and stopped abruptly just before that Y had slipped out of his mouth. And Hank knew E was standing in there mortified. Blushing and embarrassed.

And he shifted a bit and met Caroline's eyes. She gave him a small embarrassed for E look but was also some knowing sadness in there too and she looked back to Bear.

It was just another sign E was hurting real bad. He was in a ramped up turmoil in trying to push through and trying to do whatever he was trying to do.

It happened. He still got "Daddy". But Hank knew when it slipped out of E's mouth anymore. And it was moments he was in so much pain he was near tears. It was moments he was scared and lonely and going through a world of hurt.

It was this fucked up pendulum him and E were swinging between these days. Where he had a teen-ager dealing with grown-up things with grown-up experiences and opinions and anger to go with them. Emotions he didn't know what to do with. A kid who raged at him. Who had moments where he clearly hated him with all the strength and energy he could manage. But then had the underlying need for him. He needed his father and his dad. He had those periods of pain and fear and hurt where he needed help and support. And where he still felt like a little boy. Where he maybe still wished he was a little boy – or at least an average fifteen-year-old kid, dealing with average fifteen-year-old things. And Hank was having to learn how to navigate both those extremes too. As a single parent. As the good cop and the bad cop. As a father who couldn't be all tough love and had to sometimes offer him support and comforts that his mother might've been a lot better suited for.

So sometimes E still needed him to be Daddy. Sometimes he still was Daddy. But E sure didn't want anyone else to know that.

"Dad," was what came out of the room next. Hesitantly. "Where's Mom's Prehistoric World Atlas?"

Hank allowed a quiet smile at that and gave Caroline another glance. Supposed these two did hook up at Museum Club. But really had to wonder how dense E was about any of this stuff if he thought some girl was following him home to see some old picture book that Cami had likely dropped too much money on in stocking their shelves with all these educational materials that the internet had turned obsolete by the time they kid's were actually working on any school papers.

"Not on the shelf," Hank grunted.

"No," E huffed off in the room. "We … I …," he corrected. "were just using it the other day on that assignment. Where'd you put it?"

Hank gave a little smack at that. Wasn't his responsibility to be clearing homework crap off the dining room table and back into the den. And if it did get left for him, just ended up in a pile on serving counter of Cami's china cabinet that help a lot more in photos than any kind of tablewear. And resulted in a ding to E's allowance for the week – and likely a note in his school portal too. Because if the homework was ending up on the buffet, also likely wasn't making it to his backpack in the morning. Had stopped reminding him there. Needed to take some ownership and responsibility there.

"It in the dining room," he graveled at his kid.

Saw E's head pop into the other room and do a scan. As much as E's eyes worked to even scan that far without actually walking over to give it a real inspection. But his prerogative.

"No," he muttered. Doubt he actually knew.

"You take it up to your room," Hank provided flatly.

And that got a bigger sigh out of the kid. But he appeared back in the kitchen. Paper-back – not the atlas he was on about - clutched against the prop of his crutch. Hobbled over to Caroline.

"This is the first one outta the series I was telling you about," he muttered, handing it out to her.

"Oh, thanks," she allowed, taking it and giving it a bit of a scan before turning it over to look at the back.

Hank gave a thin smile as he watched that. Erin. Trying real hard to do for E what Camille had done for her with trying to get him into doing some reading. Having some success. Got him through the Potter books. Apparently working on getting him hooked on some other teen lit now. Some mythology series she'd picked up for him at his birthday. Wasn't sure E would take to them. But had. Museum geeks. Lonely awkward kids. Going on an adventure. Good fit. Least it made for easy reading when they were stuck in waiting rooms. Good enough that E was eating through them. They'd gotten through the Egyptian ones that he'd just handed off to Caroline. Working through the Norse mythology now. When they needed a break from his school English assignments and that lit list.

"I've got the whole set," E told her. "If, you know, like like it or wanna read them or whatever."

She gave a little nod but a non-committal noise. E stared at her for a second. And then fumbled over to the freezer, pulling it open.

"Think it's getting closer to dinner than after-school snack," Hank provided.

E gave him a look and still shoved his hand inside – but stopped, drawing it back. Hank watched as it settled back into his crutch. Saw the near instantaneous color change that'd happened. Raynaud's. Another fucking spectacular phenomena of M.S. and perfect when they lived in a northern state and a city known for its winters. Cold sensitivity at its fucking finest just to make everything that much harder on the kid.

"Ah, I told Caroline that she could have a couple of my concretions," E gave him another pleading look.

Hank only grunted and moved over to the fridge. "That mean I'm getting some of these rocks out of my freezer," he said. And would happily oblige that.

E just gave him a look but could feel that it'd earned a smile from Caroline.

"I'm just gonna go see if the atlas's upstairs," E told her and got a nod. But he looked Hank right in the eyes. "Don't interrogate her, Dad."

Hank grunted.

"Dad, seriously," E hissed. "Don't."

He just grunted again. And E and Caroline shared a look.

"I'll be like right back," he muttered out. Clicked double-time – as much as he could manage that afternoon – toward the stairs. Bear went barreling after him – and by him, up the stairs full-speed.

Hank waited. Kept digging a few of the hunks of rocks from their Mazon Creek trek in the summer. The ones that supposedly had fossils in them when they managed to get them to crack open. There was a whole fucking routine to getting the things to crack. Apparently could take years if you did it the right way. But Hank wasn't planning on having the things in and out of his freezer that time. The few months they'd been taken up occupancy there was enough. More than happy to get a few of them out of there.

Took them over and put them on the table with Caroline as he heard E working his way up the stairs.

"You two planning on taking the chisel to them?" he asked.

Caroline picked one up and looked at it. Actually kind of gleefully. "I dunno," she said. "I wouldn't want to like wreck the fossil."

"Mmm …," he grunted.

She looked engrossed. Twisting each of them around in her hands like she had some kind of laser vision that might see through the rocks and be able to predict what was inside the things. Suspected whatever it was that was inside them wouldn't really look like much of anything to the average person. Maybe to these two kids. Just knew that the whole fossil hunting experience out at Mazon hadn't really yielded what he'd envisioned they'd be looking for. But E and this geology stuff. Rocks looked like a whole lot more than rocks to the kid. Way this girl was looking at the things, figured she might be about the same.

"Rock hound?" he asked.

She gave a shy shrug and tried to focus even more on the thing she had in her hand. "Maybe, I guess. Sorta. Maybe more like … I like … I guess … like marine biology and aquatic ecosystems and stuff."

Hank held a quiet smile at that. "Mmm …," he grunted.

She gave him a glance and flashed one of the concretions at him. "Ethan said that a lot of the Mazon fossils you still find are like from the Pennsylvanian age marine like and ecosystem. That its pretty easy to find the jellyfish ones still. I mean, that'd be like really …. Like wow … to have a jellyfish from then. Right?"

"Mmm …," he allowed. And smiled a bit more.

He got another glance. "He said his mom was an ichthyologist?"

Hank smiled a bit more. Maybe too much. Kid's face changed.

"Did I say it wrong?" she asked, color starting to creep into her cheeks.

He shook his head and let himself sit down across from her. She fidgeted a bit at that. Trying – but not too comfortable.

"Just don't know many kids who know that word – or profession," he nodded at her.

"Oh …," she said and went back to acting like she really had to read the back of the novel E had handed her.

Hank jutted his chin at it. "Museum club," he asked. "You in the Field side or the Shedd?"

She just lifted her eyes up to barely catch his and went back to reading the cover. "I guess sorta both," she said more quietly. "Right now. But my mom might not let me go both days next term. With grades and stuff. Like I guess high school workload is a lot. But I like both. I'd kinda like to do Adler too, though. I dunno …"

He gave her outfit a little gesture. "Go to Scared Heart?" he asked.

It got a little nod – not a look with it, though.

"That's one of the Diocese's schools," he provided. It got another little nod. "Which one you feed into it from?"

"St. Bridget's …," she allowed softly.

"Mmm …," he grunted. "Bridgeport's Bandits."

That got another glance. She clearly knew he was giving her an interrogation — one E had told him not to. But the look said that she'd also been told — warned — to expect that.

"That where your family lives?"

It got another little nod.

He grunted some acknowledgement again. "My daughter's fiancee, E's brother-in-law, he did most of his growing up over in that area on the South Side too. Catholic school, parish."

"Yea …," Caroline said. "Ethan said."

He just looked at her. Considered it a bit more. "Roosevelt branch is a good bit from home," he said.

It got another shy glance. "Yea …," she acknowledged. "But it's closest to school." She shrugged a bit.

Thought it was likely more that it was closest to E's school too.

"Getting pretty far outside school hours," he said. "Library drop-in. Your folks know where you're at?"

She gave him a shyer glance – this time keeping his eyes a bit longer. "I just could kind of tell, I guess, that Ethan isn't feeling so well. I kind of thought that maybe he shouldn't be walking home alone. And with having to go by his school's fields with practice going and all that too …"

"Mmm …," Hank allowed and considered her more. "Appreciate that."

She went back to staring at the back of the book. "I texted my mom. She's on shift anyway right now. I'll just go back to the library. She'll pick me up there after or whatever, I guess."

Hank grunted. "Can give you a lift home," he provided.

She gave him a glance and shrugged. "It's okay …"

Hank tapped the table a bit. "What's your mom do for work?"

"She's a nurse," Caroline said and glanced at him again.

He allowed a thin smile at that, another acknowledgement. "Med?" That'd explain the kid kicking around this side of the city. Whole medical complex taking up the Near West anymore along with the university growing and growing.

"Rush," she said. "Dialysis unit."

He nodded. That'd be a short loop to grab Caroline from the library. "What time's she off?"

Another shrug. "I dunno. It kinda depends on stuff."

He tapped on the table again. "Your dad at work too?"

That got a smaller shake of the head and she opened the book to look at it again. "No, sir," she said real quiet. She glanced again. Even more shy and timid that time. "He was a cop too." And she let it hang there for a second – keeping his eyes – and then looked back at the book.

Hank processed. "Lisiewicz," he nodded at her. "Right?"

She met his eyes again and gave a little nod. And he nodded back. Did a mental inventory. Running down too many names from the news these days. But this one hit in his mental inventory in a different kind of gut shot. Other news stories about what it was like being a cop in Chicago anymore. Different kind of epidemic. Kind that most cops – male cops – didn't know how to get help for. Or admit they needed the help. Kind that ended with a different kind of shot. The kind you ate. And that little girl's eyes told him he'd pinpointed it – no matter how many Polak names were in the city and the police.

He gave her a little nod. Weak little attempt at some kind of understanding look. Kid – family – they'd still be reeling from that loss. Always would. That eats at you in a whole different way. One he didn't want to imagine. One no kid should have to grow up with. Wondering about and thinking about. Placing some kind of blame on themselves.

"Saying it right?" he offered her, though. Saying the guy's name still. Giving some kind of honor and reassurances to it – that counted for something. "Lisiewicz?"

"Lisiewicz," she pronounced for him.

He nodded again. "Lisiewicz," he allowed. "Your mom know we're a police family over here too?"

"Yea …," she allowed.

Another nod. Didn't want another Eva situation. Another lost friend for reasons that weren't Ethan's making. Break the kid's heart a bit more.

"Knows I'm Ethan's dad?" he put a bit more directly.

"Yes, sir …," she said.

He grunted. "Some people in CPD have opinions about that," he nodded at her.

She gave him a look. A little doe eyed but then said, "I think my mom really likes Ethan," Caroline said and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Our car's kinda junk and she couldn't get it to start again. Like she flooded it. And Ethan knew how to fix it. Like the spark plugs and getting it started again and all of that."

And Hank smiled a bit at that and grunted some acknowledgement. The girl shyly ran her fingernail down the corner of the stacked pages in the book and gave him another glance.

"He knows so much about all kinds of stuff," she said and gave him another little glance. "Like everything. All this random … everything. Not like most guys … with like just video games and you know like whatever sport they play or watch and just being so dumb to each other like … I don't know … like they thing girls like that."

Hank allowed her a little smile at that. Nice to know that someone else – besides him, besides E's sister – saw the special E had in him. Weird kid. But so smart and bright and talented. All these quirky little skill sets. Had so much to offer. Tried so hard. Despite the shit hand life had handed him. The shit he kept drawing in his life.

Caroline just stared at the book again. "Museum Club's doing the Halloween party in the new Mummy exhibit," she said and shrugged at the book. "I'm not that into like that kinda history stuff. And Egypt. But I sorta want to go to the party. It kinda sounds like it might be a lotta fun …"

Gave another quiet sound at that. Amused. But happy. "You looking for permission to ask my son to the dance?" he graveled at her.

She blushed a bit and stumbled, "He just sort of says that he's got a lot of rules about curfew and stuff like that …"

Hank grunted. And that was true. But other truth was that E just didn't do too well at evening activities these days. By about 7:30 the kid was done in. But maybe that was going to be another thing he'd have to work through with his son. Him deciding when it was worth it. Him taking some chances. Allocating energy differently for different things. That were important to him. And maybe this should be on the list. Suspected that trying to nurture this friendship might be worth it.

There was a bit of clatter and E banging around to the top of the stairs.

"Dad," he called across the house. "Can Caroline come up? I wanna show her my Trex fossil replica."

There's a euphemism. You'd almost hope. Only with E – wasn't.

Allowed Caroline another smile and shrug. "One of his prized possessions …"

She blushed a little at that and gazed at him – almost hopefully. Maybe too hopefully.

And Hank grunted at her and gestured for her to go ahead.

"Door stays open," he barked off in the direction of the stairs.

Saw Caroline go a little redder at that and could feel the heat off E's face from all the way down there too.

Just made him smile too, though. Hope a bit more. For something. For his boy to have something – someone too.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I've been asked a couple times if/how I'm going to incorporate the season premiere and/or Season 6 into the AU an these scenes.**

 **As for the premiere I sort of feel that I already dealt with a lot that happened in it already. Already alluded to Hank turning to booze and hitting some rock-bottom after Al's death. Already anticipated and mentioned that Meredith wouldn't want Hank at the funeral. Already have played with the Hank/Dawson dynamic a bit. Already anticipated divisions in the Unit and Ruzek being firmly in Voight's camp.**

 **So to me there wasn't really any big reveal or new information to play with yet that needed much incorporation into the series.**

 **Keep in mind that right now the scenes are set in what would be kind of September-December while the premier would've landed back in May.**

 **Also keep in mind that at this point with keeping the Erin character in the stories and having her back in Chicago, that the AU really is very much an AU and very much deviated from a lot of cannon in the TV series.**

 **That said, there will likely be little themes I pick up on and pull into the scenes. Most likely ones evolving out of VOight and Halstead storylines. But as usual they'll be recast to this AU and where the characters are at within that storyline.**

 **There might be some reference to cases they're working or things they experience on the job and characters they interact with (or introduce). But, again, as usual this is more a story about Hank and his family. So it's more family life and how things in their personal life are affecting them and then how the job affects the family. It's not a cop procedural or case driven AU series and it never has been.**

 **So, basically, no, you still won't need to watch a season on a show that now many of you seem to truly despise. I think you'll have all the reference and context you need without going there if you don't want to.**

 **I've also been asked who the "other character" scene is that I'd referred to working on with Hank. And it's Meredith.**

 **Right now I am also working on another Hank/Ethan scene separate from this one. I'm also working on a Hank/Erin (and some Ethan and the twins). And there's the starts of two Erin/Jay scenes under way.**

 **I'm trying to figure out a Jay/Ethan scene since I haven't had one with them for a while.**

 **Readers' comments, feedback and reviews on the posted chapters are already appreciated.**


	20. Same and Different

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

 ***********THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME M CONTENT. IT IS MARKED WHERE IT BEGINS AND ENDS FOR THOSE UNDER-AGE OR THOSE WHO PREFER JUST TO AVOID SUCH THINGS.***********

Erin leaned against the entranceway, gazing into the front room.

"Not going anywhere," she heard graveled off behind her and gave Hank a glance back in the kitchen. Sitting in his spot, coffee in hand, newspaper (such as the Sun Times was anymore) in front of him. He met her eyes briefly. "Enjoy it while you can. Don't have to do the ol'Eagle Eyes thing."

She allowed a little small - a quiet, amused sound – at the reference. It was a compliment. But truth was she didn't think she'd get it mastered quite the way Camille did. She was the expert. Had to be. Three kids. The hellions her and Justin were in their teens. Forget Eagle Eyes. Sometimes it felt like Camille had eyes in the back of her head. Or like Hank had installed surveillance cameras in the house and not just at the entryways.

Though, maybe with a few more years under her belt Erin would reach that level of parenting. Maybe it was more like she'd have to. With twins. With a boy and a girl. When they had her and Jay's genetics – and presumably would be nurtured into some of their personality traits and quirks too. They'd need to figure out how to do the ol'Eagle Eyes too. Hopefully it wouldn't be too big of a requisition. It shouldn't be. Technically. You'd hope they'd all the requisite skill sets after being cops in an Intelligence Unit.

But kids were a different challenge - and a different observational skill set. That much was apparent already. And even know she knew Hank was right – the babies were only able to move so much to get much of anywhere right – it still didn't make it that much easier to take her eyes off them.

Erin knew that already Mattie and Eli still found all sorts of ways to find trouble. And she still hadn't quite figured out a way to keep herself from feeling the urge to constantly be checking their breathing and vitals. Even now. Months out of NICU. Because that experience – with your newborns - was something that stuck with you. She thought she'd likely be drawn to checking in on their sleeping for years and years to come because of it.

But maybe preemies didn't have much to do with that. Maybe that was just being a parent. Just being a cop. As she thought back and remembered all those nights that she'd heard Hank come home after lights-out. That sometimes she caught him leaning in the boys' doorway staring at them – watching them sleep.

That other times she might've slept through him coming in the door or creaking up the stairs, but the click of her bedroom door might've caused her to jump awake. But she'd always just get graveled at her, "Just checking" or "Didn't mean to wake you" or "Didn't mean to scare you" or "It's only me" and then there'd be a long pause followed by a, "Go back to sleep" and a quieter "Love you" as the door pulled back shut.

And she supposed she understood the draw of watching your kids sleep. Now more than ever. And she was growing to understand the pull to check on them when you got home. She watched Jay do it every time he got in from shift. She knew she'd do the same when she started back to work. She could tell – knew – it'd be some sort of calming and stabilizing catharsis. A reminder of why you did the job. Why you worked for Chicago. And took care of your family too.

Not that the twins were sleeping right now. So really it was more she was Eagle Eyeing the show.

Mattie had been doing belly time in the playpen that they'd set up in Hank's cramped front room. But the little girl had gotten sick of it and had managed drag herself closer to the barrier and to pull herself up the mesh to a standing position. Her little hands gripping on the sides, she'd side-stepped until she was near flush with the end of the couch where her cousin was. And she'd just stared at him in utter fascination, giving Henry little vocalizations to try to get his attention. But Henry was completely absorbed in the show Hank had put on the TV for him.

It was a complete act of defiant, passive-aggressive commentary on Olive's parenting. Hank would never admit it but Erin could see right through it and it always made her smile. In some ways he was so permissive of Olive – it'd put a stop to anyone else giving any sort of commentary or vented frustration, even to the point of defending her. But then there were other little things he did – little Hank-like comments he made even to Olive's face, looks and sounds he gave – that were a clear indication of just what he thought of some of her views and methods on parenting.

This was just a small one. Saturday morning cartoons and a bowl of dry sugary cereal as a snack. An Olive no-no that Hank clearly didn't think would harm his grandson.

Mattie's inability to draw Henry away from staring at the screen and mindless fingering the Cheerios into his mouth seemed to have made her think that maybe the cool big thing to do was to watch the show too. And she'd now been acting for a while like she was just real interested. Arms draped over the sides of the playpen and staring up at the TV. Bouncing excitedly every now and then like she really appreciated whatever Blaze and the Monster Machines were doing up there.

Erin knew it was likely more just the sounds and colors coming off the screen that had her babbling like that. But it'd still be weirdly captivating to watch. Mattie was just getting stronger and stronger and more mobile with each day. So maybe she really did need to Eagle Eye her. Or like Hank had said too, maybe she should enjoy the little bit longer that was likely all she had left before she was really, really going to need to Eagle Eye her daughter. And would likely at that point really not ever get to sit down anymore. She'd be running after her and working even harder to keep her out of harms way.

She'd have a bit longer with Eli at least. Though, he might not be has mobile yet. But he was still committed to bashing everything he could get his hands on. Bat and punch and kick.

Right now he was on his back on a play pad laying next to where his uncle had flopped on the floor. He didn't seem to give a shit what was on the screen. He was far more interested in batting at the toys dangling above him. Grabbing and letting go and watching them bounce and sway. Excitedly kicking at his uncle when he did, which managed to get Eth's attention enough for him to smile at the baby and give him some pokes and tickles or bat the toys even harder for him, which got some happy screeches out of Ejeg, who'd then try to keep up the swing and show off for his uncle trying to wrangle his little arms to bash them even harder.

For the moment they seemed content – all four of them out there. Even though that could change at any moment. And if one of her babies started wailing then Henry and Ethan would be whining and handing them right back to her to get them away and to shut them up.

So she forced herself to listen to Hank's father-knows-best gravel and pulled herself away from the door. To try to let herself feel the few minutes of quiet.

Erin wandered back over to Hank. She gazed over his shoulder at the newspaper word search he was plugging away at over his morning coffee.

"You're turning into a real old man, Hank," she teased.

It got a look and a smack. She smiled, though.

"You know you could up the sophistication level by switching to the crossword."

Another smack and an accompanying look. "Think I care how sophisticated anyone thinks I am?"

She gave a little nod. "Alright tough guy …" she allowed.

The real tough guy in his yellow kitchen, sitting in the morning sun, drinking coffee and doing word search puzzles while his three grandkids, teen-aged son and over-grown puppy were watching Nickelodeon in the next room. Maybe he should be more concerned about that image breaker getting out on the streets.

But it'd been a while ago now that she'd had another quiet realization that moments like this – it'd been a major component of what he and Camille would've been working toward in their personal lives and family life for years. That this kind of quiet moment would've been something they were waiting for. That they likely were hoping to have for into their retirement. Into their sixties and seventies. A front room full of grandchildren coming to visit in their little, dated house.

It was another realization that hurt a bit. The acknowledgement that Hank and Camille would've worked so hard to get to that point. They would've sacrificed so much. They'd gone through their own losses and heartbreaks. But they'd gotten here.

It just didn't look the way they'd likely been hoping for. And even if it was close – Camille wasn't there to enjoy it. And one of their children wasn't there anymore either.

It made it hard. When as much as parts of this – her family – felt so right and more right than it'd felt in a long time, there were other parts of it that just felt so wrong and unfair. And if she felt that way – how did Hank feel?

"Text is too small," he muttered about the crossword suggestion.

"Don't you have grandpa glasses for that," she teased.

It got another smack and a little look. "Last I checked, got two kids that went and made me a grandpa. Not some fucking useless prescription."

She smiled a bit. "It really that useless if you can't see the crossword, Hank?"

That only got a grunt and a passive gesture back to the counter and the pot of brewed coffee as he turned his sightline back to his puzzle.

She padded over and poured herself a cup. The way Hank brewed his coffee you just needed to get a whiff of it going into your mug to already start to feel the buzz of the caffeine. And that morning, the way it hit her in the face she thought he must've about quadrupled what you were supposed to put in.

He probably needed it, though. Based on what the morning looked like over at her house, she was almost sure Hank was just operating on caffeine at that point. Not that she thought he slept much anymore – not with the way he'd aged lately and how tired and ragged he looked some days. But still. She knew Hank must've had a long night and she didn't think he'd had a much quieter morning. This – her, Ethan, and three small kids in his front room and quiet – was about as slowed down as he'd gotten so far, she suspected.

It'd been nearly 4:30 a.m. when Jay had gotten home that night – morning. He'd come in and crept up the stairs, to strip down to his boxers and crawl into bed next to her.

Erin could feel in his body language that it'd been a draining night – case. She could feel too that he'd likely spent a good chunk of that time sitting in the back of a surveillance van. The cold of the November night had soaked through to his core.

"You should go take a shower," she'd encouraged, huddling against his back and wrapping her arms around him in any effort to help. "Spool down. Warm up."

"I just want to be here with you guys …," he'd muttered at her.

"You want to talk about?" she asked instead.

He hadn't responded. Instead he'd just laid on his side staring at EJ's bassinet in the cramped spare (turned temporary master) bedroom. The room that she was working at convincing him – as much as herself – that the twins were getting to the point they were old enough and strong enough to move them just across the hall into the nursery. That they all were far enough along that they could have just a bit of space and privacy. That they'd still hear them and know if something was wrong. That it was just feet away. That the monitor would be right there at their heads on the nightstands.

But Jay wasn't ready for that yet.

Maybe she really wasn't either if even at Hank's house she found herself standing and staring at them in the next room.

Jay kept saying when they were age-adjusted to six months they could talk about changing their sleep arrangements. To start working on them not all bedding down in the same room. But she knew even then – he wasn't likely going to be ready. He wore it on him just like he was wearing the weight of the op he'd come home from.

"Want me to get into the shower with you," she offered.

And it'd taken a beat but he'd rolled to her back and looked at her. And it hadn't taken any more conversation before they'd moved to the bathroom.

It wasn't exactly romantic. Or hot. Or sexy. She didn't think it could be when with Ethan sleeping upstairs in their usual master bedroom they'd been left with the baby explosion tub and shower head set up. They'd needed to empty out the tub of all Mattie and EJ's barely used and grossly unnecessary bath toys and infant-bathing paraphernalia before they could even get in. And the baby monitor – cranked to the max volume so they could still hear their babies' breathing above the shower spray had been left sitting on top of the toilet tank. The shower curtain left open a crack – and letting stray spray puddle on the floor (a previous Jay pet peeve) – so they could even better hear the products of some of their previous stress relief, tension calmer and attempts at comfort and intimacy activities.

But Erin could tell Jay needed the closeness that morning. And she knew from experience that he would need the release. Still, under the shower stream his fatigue had betrayed him even more. But she could also feel him fighting against it. And as much as she'd climbed into there with him to have some of that private time and intimacy, she also hoped that one of the side effects would be to provide him with a bit of a sedative. Because she knew Jay. And Erin knew if she didn't help him calm to sleep he'd be awake with it for days. Insomnia and distraction and restlessness building into his agitated and anxiety-ridden anger rearing its head in shorter and shorter tempers.

 ****START OF M RATING*****

Despite the semi-necessity to it, it'd been nice. To a point. They only got so much time together anymore. But whether it was exhaustion, excretion, the slippery, toe-curling balancing act they were attempting, the cold of the night's work or the pelting hot water and steam working providing deep massage against his back and opening up his lungs as he pressed her back into the cold tile and deep into her – Jay had started coughing and hacking. To the point that he'd muttered apologies and released his supporting grip around her thigh and waist and let her leg come down from the edge of the tub as he slipped out of her.

"It's okay …," she allowed. She might not have been as understanding if he'd started his hacking when his mouth had been planted against her clit. But maybe she wouldn't have cared. They'd reached this strange and awkward newness in their tolerance and comfort about what constituted gross and body comfort levels anymore.

And she didn't have a lot to complain about. The coughing fit might've resulted in a change of positions. But the she'd really just nudged him back under the water stream to work at getting it to clear the cold out of his body and lungs more. And then she'd returned her mouth to his. And his mouth and fingers returned to her too.

She'd give Jay this – he was good with his hands. And his practiced trigger finger curled and hit all the right places – to the point her toes her curling again and she was unconsciously lifting her one leg to spread more for him. Trying urgently to find a ledge to put her foot on again and thrusting her hips demandingly at him.

Her hand struggled to find something more to grip on and support herself while she did little to try to hold back the guttural moan between their open, hungry mouths. She could feel him smiling against it – sucking it up into his tired lungs and the panted, crackled breathing that'd been coming out of them in that steam. It lead to another cough. One that shook his chest against her as she shuddered against him, his free arm wrapped firmly around her hips while two fingers were still buried inside her. His thumb still flicking slowly back and forth against her, sending another little jolt through her core with each motion.

She'd nearly slid away from him as she came down from it and she'd still gone searching for his mouth again. She'd kissed at his chest and his collar bone. She'd pressed against him – measuring his breathing from his arousal and from the chest cold that had clearly set in. And he'd kissed back still. And eventually he'd let down his walls – he recognized his own needs – and let himself press closer to her so the heavy bob of his semi-hard cock rocked against her thigh each time she stroked her tongue against his and his hips did their own involuntary rock closer.

So she let her one hand come and rest against his runner's hip, gripping there and waiting for him to make his own decision – to define his comfort level and give her permission again. And it hadn't taken too long. His hand had come down from where he'd be caressing her cheek and angling her head and neck for greater access to her mouth. And he'd found her hand on hip and guided it top his growing erection.

He'd still coughed a bit more as he let out his own aroused little sounds he made. The ones he usually tried to choke back and keep as quiet as possible. His lungs and throat crackled a bit more as she kissed there. But she kept up her slow and steady ministrations in the gentle strokes, careful caresses and flicks of the thumb and judicious tugs that it'd taken so much of their relationship for him to reach a comfort level with the routine and touches that he'd let her do and had even more slowly open himself to seek it out – to want it – from her as part of their intimacy.

She'd kissed at his chest – his pecks. She usually could feel in his body and breathing when he was getting close. That she was able to stop while before so their intimate moment wouldn't turn into a trigger point that ended with him sitting on the bed with his back to her and apologizing. Or worse – him moving away from her and what had just happened so quickly that she was left feeling probably near as vulnerable and naked as he was as he hurried to the bathroom and took much longer than any man she knew ever would to clean up.

That night – morning – though with the crackle in his lungs and the catch in his breathing she was having trouble measuring it.

"You're going to need to tell me," she mouthed against his chest.

He'd managed something that was almost audible as an 'okay'. But he still let the kissing and touching continue until the heat of the water was starting to turn tepid. It hadn't been until she'd gripped his hard-on and pressed even closer to him than she already was – stroking it for him against her soaking wetness that had little to do with the water. She'd gotten a real, "Okay" then.

And he'd near urgently managed to scoop her up and she'd just as naturally let her legs wrap around his waist. And he was back in her. And her back was pressed against the tiles again.

He'd cut it closer than he'd been letting on. It'd only taken him a few deep, beautiful agonizing thrusts before he shuddered hard against her. Before he groaned and coughed hard again. Before, he was pressed so firmly and so far into her, that she felt him pulse inside her too.

Erin continued to kiss at his neck and jaw in the slow moments where he panted and lurched his labored breathing against her neck, his forehead resting against the cold tile too. He backed off the supporting their weight against the wall and let her slide back down his body to find her footing again in the tub. But he'd found her mouth too, kissed her again until he smiled at her and she rested her hand against the middle of his chest. It was still rattling.

"Sorry," he smiled.

She arched her eyebrow. "For the orgasm or for the clean up?" she asked.

It'd gotten a bigger smile. "You do do serious damage in a bathroom," he provided.

She let her hand drop from his chest and leaned in capture another brief kiss, him meeting her. "You don't seem too worse for the wear," she allowed as they broke away.

He hummed some agreement. "Not sure my lungs agree."

"Flattering," Erin said. "But I don't think I'm the cause of your breathlessness this time."

He grinned a bit more and choked back an amused sound that only caused him to spew out some more hacks. Erin reached and rubbed at his sternum again. She could still feel the catch and wheeze there. The night was settling into his chest and she frowned a bit at that. But he gave her a thin smile - an attempt at reassurance, pecking her lips again and then turning to reach for the soap and washcloth.

She could already feel the starts of the warm, sticky mess working its way downward. They likely should've saved some warm water for the clean-up. But he'd helped. And it kept them both warm. Again. Though likely hadn't done much to spool them down. So maybe ending with the blasts of cold water hitting them had been a bit of a help.

 *****END OF M RATING*****

They definitely did cool their heels a bit more as they stepped out of the bathroom – her with just a towel wrapped around her and Jay having only pulled his shorts back up his legs. And either they really hadn't been anything resembling quiet or Jay's coughing fits been even worse than she'd registered – because Ethan was coming down from the upper level.

She'd done a bit of a spin when she'd heard him and held the towel against her breasts more firmly – gesturing for Jay to stay in the bathroom. But she hadn't been quite fast enough. Ethan saw and she watched the initial double-take turn into slow registration of what he'd just caught the tail-end of. She waited for a sarcastic comment, criticism or simply a 'gross, in there? You know that's where people take dumps' type assessment. But it didn't come.

Instead all she got was, "Is Dad here now too?"

And it was Jay who answered for them. "Late night, bud. He was just going to head home. Go get a couple more hours shut eye then we'll give you a lift over."

But Ethan had kept coming down the stairs. "I hurt," he said. "I can't sleep. It's almost med time."

They hadn't argued with him. Not wrapped in towels. And as soon as they stepped back into their own sleeping arrangement, it'd been clear they weren't likely going to sleep then either.

Erin didn't think it had anything to do with Mattie and Eli catching them in the act. The two of them had slept through them having sex in the same room as them. But Eli was stirring and working at letting out enough of his 'I'm starving' sounds to try to get his sister going too.

Erin knew it likely had more to do with EJ's Daddy radar than anything – hungry or noise. He'd been like that since nearly the day he was born. Visibly. His vitals on the monitors would change when Jay left the room and when he came back into it. It was like those first, long few hours that Jay had had with their son that she hadn't – the death and frantic resuscitation that Jay had helplessly watched happen in the OR – had fused this bond between them that she'd never quite have with her son in quite the same way. And now it was still the same. Eli sensed when Jay was home and no matter how deep his sleep had been, it was near a given that he'd be awake and wanting some Daddy cuddle time.

"I'll go make him a bottle," Jay mumbled, reaching to draw his son to him. The fussing quieted near instantly. "So you and Mattie can sleep a bit more."

Erin sighed at him. "Jay, I want you to sleep."

"I'll be okay," he told her and slipped out of the room.

She'd only taken the time to dress, though. Though, she'd done it slowly because she could hear Jay and Ethan talking in hushed voices as he moved around the kitchen. The two of them only got so much alone-time anymore too so she gave them a bit of space.

It was strange what parenthood had done – was doing – to them as a couple. These little shifts in them as people and as a family. Comfort levels they'd found in certain areas that they would've awkwardly stumbled through or put up all kinds of road blocks and walls in talking around or just plain avoiding or shutting down. There were these moments where it still felt so different and odd. That she wondered what had happened. But then there were also this layer upon layer of them still very much being them despite the changed circumstances. And how even the changed circumstances felt natural – sometimes even better in a way – even when they felt unnatural to what had been their normal. It was like the babies had just pushed them forward and forced them to cope – with themselves and their baggage and their issues as a couple and as a family. They'd just had to deal. And they had. They were making progress in ways that didn't feel as big or as scary as it'd all felt before.

But maybe after being as naked and vulnerable as those days and weeks and months had been with the labor and their arrival and the hospital – some things just paled into comparison and faded into the background. When it wasn't all about them. And when it was about them – it was about the family as a whole. And how to keep them whole. And functional. The scarifies and adjustments you made to do that. The concessions.

Erin had moved down the stairs when it finally grew quite below her. She'd found Ethan curled in the one chair on his phone – she assumed he was likely texting his dad and ensuring Hank wasn't going to get a couple hours of shut-eye either. And Jay was sagged back on the couch, Eli cradled in his arms with a bottle flopped against him – both of them having drifted back to sleep. So maybe mission accomplished on both counts with her two guys at least.

Erin had managed to draw EJ out of Jay's arms without waking him. Though Jay's eyes had bolted open.

"Lay down," she instructed him firmly. And he hadn't argued with her about it that time, settling on the couch.

And he had managed to stay out for the count. Though he'd stirred a bit a few times that morning he also hadn't gotten up from the couch as she worked at getting Ethan and Mattie and EJ all fed breakfast and up and dressed and ready to go out the door.

She'd finally gotten back over to Jay and caressed his cheek a bit to get him to open his eyes. His hand had grabbed in reactive motion at her wrist. A bit too tightly – another betrayal of just the kind of case they'd likely been running an op on and what it was doing to his subconscious.

"Just me," she nodded at him.

His grip immediately loosened and she got another mumbled apology. But she caressed his cheek again and ran her hand across his forehead. It was hot and the way she'd startled him sent him into another grabbled spew of chest coughs.

"Rest," she instructed. "We're just going to give Eth a lift to Hank's."

He nodded as he settled back into couch again and she pulled the blanket off the back of it and draped it over him. That got a muttered thanks, as he turned and closed his eyes.

It looked like maybe her efforts to protect the twins from cold and flu season was about to go sideways. They'd been so worried about the outside world infecting them with germs that they hadn't given a lot of thought to the bugs that either of them would be bring into the house. Jay and the job and the biannual colds he seemed to get – much to his chagrin now that he'd had multiple years of trying to figure out how Hank never got sick.

She knew that taking the twins out of the house for the afternoon wasn't likely to protect them from it – at this point. And she knew that she didn't plan on ostracizing Jay until he got over it. But she thought for everyone's sake – for him to let himself get some rest – it was best if she moved over to Hank's, even if he'd just gotten home from a long night too.

Hank hadn't been there when they arrived, though. And he likely hadn't even planned to be. He'd gotten home from their all-nighter and had then promptly gone and retrieved Henry to take him to the skating lessons that he seemed committed to getting him into every Saturday morning he could. At 8 a.m. And apparently, he'd also committed that day to taking Henry for the afternoon too.

"What exactly is it that Olive's doing?" Erin muttered at him, as she made her way back to the table. "I thought her clinic only did one weekend a month?"

He grunted at her, barely looking up from the hatch-marks he was making on his puzzle. Crossing letters out, not circling them. "Some photo shoots booked. Tis the season. Good side income."

"Must be nice," Erin said.

That got a smack and he caught her eyes. "Don't get too critical there, Kiddo, when you're next in line and have two you'll want to be dumping on me."

She allowed a thin smile and a quiet acknowledgement at that. But she only reached and tapped on the start of a word he'd missed but she'd spotted from that angle.

"Don't be a pain in the ass," he muttered at her, but did start hatch-marking her find.

She let him but then reached and tugged folded page away from him. He gave her another smack but let her take it and gaze down at it the right way.

"You want to share what had you guys out until 4 a.m.?" she asked, spotting another word on the newsprint.

It just got another smack and his eyes set on her. She met them.

"I know it's bad form to be taking a sick day before a scheduled D.O.G. holiday but don't be surprised if Jay takes one," she said. Hank kept her eyes and she looked back to the crossword. "You were outside all night?" she gave him a glance. Look confirmed it. She shrugged. "The cold – it already sounds like settled into his chest. I left him on the couch. He felt feverish."

Hank nodded and then shrugged, taking his puzzle back. "Going to have some paperwork and a mandatory trip to the shrink Monday morning anyway."

And Erin let out a slow exhale at that attempt at the casual provision of information.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **So this chapter with the flashback ended up writing a bit differently than what I'd intended so it is going to a split scene.**

 **Will continue from likely Erin's POV. But it will be more dialogue driven heart-to-heart between Erin and Hank. Likely hit on some stuff to do with the babies, miscarriages, job hunt, where Hank's head is at with stuff going on at work and with Al gone and Ethan's health.**


	21. Spousal Privilege

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

"I never thought I'd turn into one of those women …," Erin mumbled under her breath. Only not so much. Because she wanted Hank to hear it.

She knew she needed him to hear. Because she was struggling lately to get her handle on all this. On being a mom and the partner of a cop. Being the one left at home with little babies for long hours and not knowing where Jay was or what he was doing or when they'd see him again and have him home.

Erin was dealing with worry and frustration and annoyance and envy and guilt all blurring together coming. These conclusions and feelings and emotions and opinions about all of it just colliding. And she didn't really know who or how to talk about it – even though her and Jay talked about. But there was only so much either of them could really say.

What could they say? It was his job. It was their family's majority income right now. It was her job too. She knew that. She understood what it entailed. They both knew that. They'd known what they were getting into.

Only they hadn't. Not really. Not with babies and family life involved – as much as they thought they had. And as much as they were trying to adjust. They were both making sacrifices to manage the situation they'd gotten themselves into. The situation they'd both decided to make work. But sometimes she just didn't feel like it was working. Not for her.

"The nagging wife and mother hen," was Hank's flat response. She knew it was a tease. She could see it in his face. But it was like sandpaper and it rubbed her the wrong way.

"Because I give you a head's up that he's got a chest cold?" she spat back at him. It got a look and a smack. He was unimpressed with her relation to the joke that they both knew had some truth and commentary behind it.

She yanked her coffee closer to her face and breathed in the fumes, glaring at him over the slips of steam coming off it.

"Shame on me for thinking that might spill over from professional into personal," she mouthed at him. "That maybe it might impact family life when there's three kids in the next room with weakened immune systems and we're a week out from whatever the hell we're doing for Thanksgiving."

Hank gave her a little smack. "Calm down," he smacked again.

She kept his eyes and took a long sip out of her mug, raising at eyebrow at him. "When you just inferred that I'm somehow emasculating him by being mildly concerned about him – and my family – when he comes home hacking? I don't think so."

It got another smack as Hank adjusted himself in his chair. She recognized the changed posture – as he sat sideways and leaned against the wall.

She didn't know if someone had taught it to him or he'd picked it up and adopted it himself. That they were sitting in the same spot where a whole lot of teen-aged conversations – ones that usually included rules, regulations, expectations, consequences and punishments – had taken place. Honest talks with good, bad and ugly being put there on the table.

And him sitting like that. Not directly in front of her. Not a direct, walled off confrontation. Giving her space to bore her eyes off into the opposite end of the kitchen and not look directly at him if she couldn't – even though she knew he now wouldn't be taking his eyes off her. That he'd be looking her in the eyes the whole time even if she was avoiding the eye contact. That the only time he'd move his eyes from her was that other reason he positioned himself that way – to be able to see out through the rest of the house. The dining room and the front room and the hallway and feet coming down the stairs. That he could ward off intrusions or interruptions. Or he could gesture for Camille if he wanted back-up. Or shift his position again to give her some sort of privacy and protection from prying eyes of little brothers who either wanted to be nosey pains in the ass – or more likely to offer her little boy comfort and protection of their own, creeping in to give her a hug and to ask her what was wrong and why their dad was being all gruff with her.

"He's real lucky to have you watching out for him and taking care of him and those kiddos," Hank nodded at her.

She made a little noise at that and reached to pull back the puzzle page he'd been working on. "Right …" she muttered.

He gave a smack and stared at her, as she picked up the pencil. "Don't do that," he rasped.

"Do what?" she mumbled and started filling in the first word on the crossword he'd been ignoring.

"The pout-pout fish," he graveled and leaned over to pull the pencil from between her fingers. She gave him another glare but he just stared right back.

"Something's on your mind," he said. "You want to have a conversation. So let's act like grown-ups."

She gave him a firmer glare at that comment. Sometimes he still really treated her like she was a teen-aged kid. And most of the time she didn't want to admit that there were a lot of times she gave him reason to. Maybe she wanted to admit even less that there were times she wanted him to. That she just needed him to be her dad and she wished he could still 'fix' her problems for her the way he had when she was a teenager. Because as much as she hated that he always seemed to think he knew what was best for her, she had to admit to herself that there'd been a lot of times in her life – as a teen and as an adult now –he had.

But she still went back to reading the clues for the puzzle, putting off the talk that she thought she wanted to have but maybe she didn't.

"Erin," he rasped at her again. "You can talk to me about anything. You know that."

She looked at him. "Only, clearly I can't when you go making comments like—"

He put his mug down firmly – firmly enough to stop her. And his hands folded against the bottom of his ribcage in his sloped posture.

"Feeling what it sounds like you're feeling when he's out on the job doesn't make you one of 'those woman', Erin," he graveled at her. "Doesn't make him hen-pecked and doesn't make you a mother hen. It just makes you a wife. And I just wish that the two of you – him – would get off your ass and make that official."

She shook her head at him. "I'm not doing this today."

He shrugged at her. "Okay," he allowed. "If that's not what we're actually talking about here, then how about you tell me what sent your back that far up the wall."

She stared at him. "How is it that you casually alluding to the fact that Jay in the very least fired a shot that hurt someone enough that they're in the hospital – in bad fucking shape, Hank—but that means that I want to talk about the status of my relationship? With you."

And he just looked at her. Because she was sure her face had said that Jay hadn't told her that he'd been in a shooting that night. That he'd hit someone. That maybe he had a kill shot. Even though she could read his body language and had drawn her own conclusions about the circumstances that lead to it. It'd been on the list. But he hadn't told her. Again. And maybe – really – that did bother her. Maybe – really – it just added to the helplessness she felt in being the one at home. To not having his back on the job. To not being there with him to witness what was happening and to help carry the load for what did.

"What do you want to talk about?" he put back to her.

And she exhaled hard. "I hate that you keep bringing it up," she pressed.

He reached for his coffee. "Just don't understand what there's left to think about here," he said. "You just take care of it."

Erin cocked her head at him. "Easy for the guy with the epic love story to spout."

He gave her a little smack. "Intimacy with another—"

"And you always make that sound so fucking easy too," she mumbled.

And he smacked, staring at her hard. "You know me," he nodded at her. "You think maintaining that level of openness and connection in my relationship was ever something that was fucking easy for me to do? With my job. With who I am."

And she just looked at him. Because she didn't know what to say to that.

He nodded more directly at her again. "I've got no fucking delusions, Erin, that that level of intimacy is something I'm ever going to have with another woman ever again."

"Hank," she sighed at him apologetically. Because he'd never verbally said that to her before even though she'd drawn her own conclusions that he never had any intentions of dating or trying to establish a relationship again. Not after this long when it was still so clear he was grieving. But that lately – with Al gone too, maybe about the only other person he had left in the world that he'd had some kind of emotional intimacy in to confide in. Someone that he'd likely verbally admitted to long ago that he'd lost his wife and that was it. He had a wife. She was gone. He wouldn't have another wife in his lifetime. And with Al gone too, Erin had wondered – maybe hoped – that Hank would … find someone or something to help him through. To have that kind of emotional connection with. Someone to support him and for him to confide in so nearly unconditionally.

But her look must've conveyed all that and he grunted and made a gesture to brush it off. It wasn't a territory he wanted to get into. Not with her. Off limits with his children – even if he'd opened himself up to it in that moment.

"We work in jobs where we look people in the eye every day, Erin," he nodded at her. "And have crucial, life-changing conversations with them. And if after all this time – when you two have been trough, two kids in the next room – and you and Jay can't sit down, look each other in the eyes and sort this out, get on with it. I just don't know why the fuck you're bothering."

"It's not that simple, Hank," she muttered.

"No it's not," he smacked. "Two of you aren't going to have some meet-cute moment here. Who the fuck does?"

"You and Camille," she mumbled and gave him a look. "Do you have any idea how many people on the job were – are – jealous of the marriage, family life you had. That on the job – our job - you were able to maintain—"

But he just put his mug down again. "Erin," he put to her more firmly. "You were part of the family long enough, and old enough, to more than know there wasn't a lot to be jealous about."

"Yes there was …," she mumbled and drew her mug to her mouth. "Is …"

He watched her take sips. "Marriage – raising a family – it's not a love story. It's hard work and the sooner you commit to that and start—"

"See," she pressed back at him. "Doing that. It makes it sound like you think we don't talk about it. Or like Jay's running away from his responsibilities. He's not. He's right here. He's beyond in love with the babies."

"And he's completely in love with you."

She squinted. "Is that a question?"

"No," he graveled. "It's additional ammo in why I am lost on what the hell the two of you are doing when you played house long enough and hard enough that I've got two grandkids but a daughter sitting across from me without a ring."

She held up her hand at him. "Ring," she pressed.

"Know that's not what I mean."

She shook her head. "And again with the 'honest woman' bullshit."

It got a smack. "Sounds like you've been waiting to say that a long time."

She cocked her head at him. "I'm not Olive."

"Know you're not."

"I don't need to be made an 'honest woman'. I don't need—"

"A man? A husband?" Hank nodded at her and pulled up his drink again. "Everyone needs some, Erin. Maybe you're working at convincing yourself you don't need this to be a marriage. But a man like Jay – needs a wife."

"What does that mean?" she hissed at him.

But he only gave a smack and brought his coffee back up to his mouth, taking slow sips. Some sort of quiet message that he had such a good read on some of Jay's issues and baggage even without the two of them having ever talked openly about it – that Hank wasn't even going to warrant her demand with a response.

"We've got a lot to work through," she pressed.

He shrugged. "Every marriage does. Whole lot of time to keep working through it after you go and sign the paperwork."

She glared at him. "We don't want to sign the paperwork if it's not going to work out. Jay grew up in a home with a sham marriage. Neither of us want that for our relationship. Or for our kids."

He grunted at her. "So playing house – that's not a sham but going down to city hall …" He shrugged at her like she was making no fucking sense. And he was right – in a way. And he took a gulp from his coffee to prove it.

"I broke his heart, Hank," she put to him plainly.

And he brought down his mug and looked at her even more directly. "Erin, having a person you're that intimate with means you've got a lifetime of breaking each other's hearts – having your hearts broken – and figuring out ways to mend them together."

She sighed and shook her head, staring at the crossword, trying to focus on the clues there like the answers were going to give her some kind of answer in her real life too.

"It's more complicated than that," she said. "He's seen me at the bottom of my holes. He knows that I've got addiction in my—"

"He knew all that, Erin," Hank pressed. "Seen you at your worst. Both hurt each other – and loved you anyway. Went and made a family with you anyway. So now both of you are just …" he shook his head and did break eye contact for a moment, his sightline drifting to gaze into the front room and the twins. She let her eyes follow and stared there too.

"It's not that I don't want to get married," she muttered quietly. "We keep talking about it. All the time."

"You ask him directly?" Hank put to her.

She crunched her brow. "I just said we're talking about it."

Hank hummed at that and shook his head. "Ask him," he said. "Outright."

"To marry me? Meaning a proposal?" she squinted at him.

He grunted and took another swig from his mug.

"Again," she sassed at him, "when this conversation started with you alluding that I am emasculating him. And now your advice is for me to propose to him."

He smacked and got her eyes again. "Big difference between talking in never-ending circles with your spouse, getting told to do something, and being asked nicely."

She gave him a thin smile for that. "Sounds like you're speaking from experience there, Hank."

"Mmm …," he hummed and allowed his own quiet smile. "Another one of Camille's specialties. She would've taught you that one quick."

Erin smiled a little more and gazed at the table for a moment before looking at his sad-happy little smile and that far-off look that he might not even know was painted on his face – whenever he talked about his wife.

"I think the only thing Camille ever directly said to me about marriage was, 'Marry a dentist.'"

Hank actually allowed a scuffed chuckle at that and rubbed his thumb down his cheek a couple times. "Tune would've changed when she met Jay."

Erin let a thin smile pull at the corners of her mouth.

"Pretty sure she would've adored him, Erin," he nodded at her. "And if you think I'm on your ass about what the hell you two are playing at these days." He shook his head. "These two," he said and gestured off into the front room again. "She would've had you on the phone busting your chops daily now."

"I wouldn't have answered," she teased gently – because she knew he was right. After Camille decided what was best for you she went at you even harder than Hank. She was like a dog with a bone.

He made a sound of acknowledgement. "Wouldn't have stopped her from leaving a little speech for you on voicemail."

Erin smiled a little into her mug. "Another one of her specialties."

And that lead to another quiet sound out of Hank, as he still stared off at the four kids in the living room. The bits and pieces of his wife he had left. The ones that Erin knew he loved having there in his life now but she also knew they haunted him too.

She stared into her own mug for a long moment. Sometimes it was hard to be with him when he was like that. It was hard to know how much he still hurt and how much guilt he carried and to feel helpless in ever really doing anything to make it better or easier for him. Despite his claims that she cheered him up.

And she let out a long sigh and looked at him. Her extended exhale had drawn his eyes back to her, in that quiet, sad examination again.

"Hank, I miss Camille," she admitted.

He grunted his own acknowledgement. His agreement. She knew he missed her more – differently – than her. And that maybe he didn't really want to talk about it.

But she sighed again and looked at her coffee. "I missed her so much during the pregnancy," she admitted again and gave him a glance. Her eyes watered a bit. "There were just so many times I just … wanted to have her around to talk to and … just support, I guess …" she muttered. She reached a swiped at her eyes a bit. "Sorry …"

But his hand had come across the table and set over hers. He gave her that thin, sad little smile again. And she frowned a little more.

"I'm thinking of her – missing her – nearly every day now," she said and gestured absently at the babies but then set her eyes on them until she had to shake her head out of it. "There's just a million little things I want to ask her." And she attempted to give him a firmer smile but it felt wishy-washy. "Maybe a few big ones too."

He grunted and gripped at her hand. "Whatever it is you want to ask her about, her answer would be that you're doing fine and she's real proud of you. That I know."

It prickled at her eyes a bit and she reached to swipe them with her free hand, letting herself turn her other palm and feel the grip of his around hers. "I guess I just want to hear her say …"

"Mmm …," he hummed. "She is. Just need to listen a bit harder."

She squeezed his hand too and then pulled away, trying to collect herself. She pressed at her eyes for a long moment and then stared into her mug again.

"Sometimes I don't know how you guys did it," she said and made herself look at him more directly. "With the job and three kids. And I keep thinking about it and thinking about it. And I know you worked long hours. I know there was the shifts. I know you had arguments about it and bickered. But I always remember you being there, Hank. Right now … I just feel like I never really know when I'm going to see Jay. And the job – the worry – I can compartmentalize that. But not seeing him …"

It got hummed acknowledgement again. And her phone vibrated. She picked it up and gazed at the screen.

"He's awake. Must've heard us talking about him …," she muttered and started keying in a message.

"Going to head home to see him," Hank put flatly.

But she shook her head and sent the message back to Jay, tucking some hair behind her ear. "I want him to rest," she said. "If we're there, he won't. The babies …"

"Part of being a dad," Hank graveled.

She nodded and looked at the screen as it vibrated again. It didn't sound like Jay was going to be listening to her about taking some decongestant and shutting his eyes again. She sighed.

"He coming over?"

She gave him a little shrug and shook her head. "Maybe. Likely."

Hank grunted.

And she just twisted at her mug and brought it up to her mouth to drink some more.

"It gets easier," Hank nodded at her. "As the kids get bigger. Both of you getting into work routine. Figure out schedules. Make compromises. As long as you both commit to be there when you're off the clock, it will fall into place."

She exhaled and shrugged. "It's just hard to … see how we get there right now," she said. "Or when we will."

Hank picked up his own cup and took a drink.

"Did you have a lot of opinions about Camille going back to work?" she asked and he gazed at her over the rim of his mug. It seemed like it made him take a longer drink.

"I had opinions," he finally allowed when he swallowed. "Suspect I had fewer opinions than Jay might given the career paths."

She nodded and ran her finger along the seam in the table. "It's not just him," she said. "I also didn't think I'd be one of these women who suddenly feels guilty about wanting to go back to work and leave my babies … I don't know … with a stranger."

He just looked at her. "You guys went through a lot, Erin," he nodded. "Sick babies is extenuating circumstances. Think it's pretty normal as a parent to want to be near them and take care of them."

"I do want to go back to work," she looked at him. "I just really hate feeling this guilty about it."

He shook his head. "You don't have anything to feel guilty about. Creating a couple lives doesn't mean you don't still have your own life to live."

She sighed and gazed at him. "How are you and Antonio doing?" she asked.

He shrugged and took another gulp from his mug. "Doing our jobs."

Erin ran her finger along the table again. "I've been trying to get him on the line. To take him out for lunch or a coffee, to get a fuller picture on why he left the State Attorney's office."

"Think it just didn't work out," Hank provided.

"Line I got before was that it was boring after Intelligence."

Hank grunted. "Think you did enough time in the DA's Investigator's Office to decide on your own if it was boring."

She shrugged at him and twisted at her cup. "It was and it wasn't," she admitted and looked at him. "There were things I liked about it and things I didn't." She shrugged again. "Parts of it – the research, investigating, cross-jurisdictional databases and contacts – I was good at. But I missed getting out into the field in the way you do on the job. I mean, field work with the DA was just different interview rooms or bureaucrat offices, lawyer's conference rooms."

Hank hummed more acknowledgement.

And she sighed. "But I know … with the babies … I shouldn't be craving that kind of work. I mean, one of us getting shot at regularly is more than enough. And Jay needs that outlet more than me."

"Mmm," Hank grunted. "He's good police. No dinosaur arms."

She allowed him a thin smile. That was a polite was of saying that Jay was an aggressive cop – with angry issues on top of his PTSD.

"Don't know it'd do much for improving his schedule or how much you see him, Erin, but if the two of you decide right now his skills would be better suited elsewhere, not going to hold it against you or hold him back. Will sign off on it, put in a good word. Special Function Group, SWAT, Bomb Squad. Whatever he wants."

"He wants to stay in Intelligence," she said. "He likes the job. The cases. I think it's a good balance for … who he is, what he needs too."

Hank grunted. And she ran her finger along the seam more.

"You think your good word would do anything for me with CPD?" she asked, meeting his eyes.

He let out a little sigh and folded his hands against his chest again. "That's a bit of a different situation, kiddo."

She nodded. "You think they'd ever let me back in?"

He made a quiet noise at that and stroked his one thumb against his one cheek while his tongue set against the opposite one.

"Think what you'd need to do is think long and hard about where you actually want to be and then look at who's running what these days. Pick your one or two that you might have a decent shot at and hit up the commanding officer directly." He shrugged. "They like you and what you offer, they might have a favor or two to call in if they want you bad enough."

"And you don't," Erin muttered.

"Erin," he nodded at her. "It's not like that. I can't have you back in Intelligence. And my hands are real tied these days. I'm owing more favors than I'm waiting payback on. That's not a position I like having my family in either."

She nodded her quiet acknowledgement. And felt his eyes on her. She could tell there was some guilt and regret in them that he'd had to lay it out to her like that. But it was just reality. She already knew that.

"You got your eyes somewhere specific right now?" he asked.

She found his eyes again and gave a little shrug. "Maybe Cold Case," she allowed. "Maybe more Missing Persons or Juveniles."

Hank grunted but she felt the way he was looking at her and weighing the options she'd put up at the forefront.

"I've been approached by the State Police," she provided and he made a little impressed sound but she knew that didn't necessarily yield approval from Hank. "Internet Crime. Dark Web stuff. It's pretty … dark."

"Would be," Hank grunted.

She brought her hands up to face and gazed at him. "You stayed in Gangs so long because you liked working with kids, didn't you?"

They'd never talked about that. And it hadn't been until much later – until she was an adult and working with him – that that was more what it was all about. He saw that as a way to make real change in the city. To get them while they were young. To get them out while they were young too. When he still had a chance and some way. Those were the people he wanted to protect.

She thought Justin had realized it before her. The fights and the accusations in his teen years that Hank cared more about other kids than he did his own son. Which at the time Erin had internalized more as a commentary on her place in the family and the disruption her brother felt she'd caused to his life. And it was – and it wasn't. But there was some truth to what Justin said. Not that Hank cared less about his children – but that he knew they were in a safe, caring, protected situation. That he was already working to make sure they had opportunities in life and a chance to have a decent, fulfilling life. He didn't need to worry about them – or some of the situations that kids wrapped up in street gangs were stuck in. A lot of them too far outside of their own control for the age they were for them to ever get out of them.

She wouldn't have gotten out of her situation without Hank. And she was just one person. One kid that he'd gone above and beyond with. She knew there were lots of others that he'd done varying level of things – grey areas he'd manipulated – to try to help and save other kids. To save – better – his city.

"Do you miss that?" she asked. "In Intelligence?"

He grunted again and gulped his coffee. "Same as you and the DA's office. Things I like about it and things I don't. Things I miss and things I don't. Gang situation in Chicago has changed a lot. Job's changed a lot. Wouldn't be the same even if I was there. Was at a point in my life that I didn't want to be there anymore. Couldn't be."

She allowed a nod. "I like when I get to work with kids too," she provided, though.

"I know," he allowed.

"Jay doesn't think some of the options to get to work with kids would be good for me."

"Might have a point," Hank rasped.

She allowed a thin smile at that. "He says I have too much empathy."

Hank hummed more acknowledgement – agreement – there. "Likely a point there too."

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Split scene again. Conversation will continue in next posted chapter.**


	22. Nacho Libre

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Erin shook her head. "You both make it sound like there's something wrong with caring," she muttered.

Hank gave her one of his puckers and shook his head. "It's not the caring that's the issue with you, Erin. It's that you relate to them a little too much and it gets you into a situation of projecting that has sent you off the rails more than once."

She cocked her head at him – unimpressed. Even though she knew – knew – he was right. But she didn't have to like it.

"What's so wrong with wanting to help you the way you helped me? And helped a whole lot of other kids and families over the years?" she pressed back at him.

"For one – not all these kids are you. Two – you aren't me. And three – Erin, you can't save them all. And that's something you've always struggled with because you let yourself feel a little too much. That's not good for you. And, know for a fact, it's going to be even worse for you now with your own kids. How you relate to these cases – the job – it changes after you've got your own at home."

"So what? I'm just supposed to become a mall cop?" she spat.

"Not saying that. Saying you need to take a couple steps back and think a bit more about what you want out of the job, where you're headed with your career, and what you want your home and family life to look like. And you're going to have to do some prioritizing and be willing to make some concessions there. Jay too."

Erin just shook her head and stared at the table. He wasn't being help.

"Look, Kiddo. You know that after you've got your head on straight about what you want to do and you've got your sights set on something, I'll do what I can for you. But I don't have some magic wand to be opening up doors for you at this point. And I'm not going to play monkey in the middle if you and Jay are going it together and aren't on the same page about this."

She exhaled and stared at him. "He thinks you're grooming him to take on a bigger role in the unit. It's one of the reasons he doesn't want to transfer out."

Hank grunted.

"What does that mean?" she stared at him.

Hank gave a passive shrug. "He's good police, Erin. You know that. He has potential. I give him opportunities to prove himself – same as I do with everyone else."

"You have him running point on some big things, Hank," she put to him.

"Pretty high on the seniority list on the crew at this point. He's worked for it. Earned it."

She sighed and stared at him again. Sometimes Hank was so straight forward in how he talked to you. But most of the time it still felt like you were talking to a brick wall. Maybe that was because he didn't seem to care about what you wanted to hear. He just said it as it was. When sometimes you just really wanted to be told things your way. Not his way.

He scrubbed at his face as he read her.

"Erin, everyone's got to figure out what their priorities lie after they've got kids and figure out the balance there. Camille – before Justin, she'd go on all kinds of research trips."

Erin squinted a bit. Camille hadn't ever really mentioned that. And she didn't have any real memory of her doing that after she was living with them. At all.

"There'd be these whole periods – cycles – in the year where we'd go weeks, close to a month, at a time of hardly seeing each other. She loved it. I was working all hours," and he shrugged at that. "We have a baby. That didn't work anymore. She took more of a desk job. I did some quick-step to try to get to detective a bit fast. Least give us a bit more flexibility with the kind of shifts I was getting. Renegioation again after you came home. Had a lot of terms and conditions on what I needed to do for our family to work. And again – both had make some concessions about career trajectory and financial planning, family time after Magoo was on the scene. I would've been happy just riding out until I took my pension as a detective. Avoid the bureaucratic bullshit. We both know that didn't work after Camille was gone. So you adjust again."

"Meaning …," she muttered, even though she knew what he was saying. She just wasn't in the headspace she was quite ready to listen and accept it.

"Meaning – for me – that was adding the stripes and spending more time behind the desk. Is it exactly what I want to be doing or the way I want to do my job? No. But get to see my kid a lot of nights of the week."

She just sighed again.

"Prioritize, Erin," he nodded at her again. "Two of you sit down. Figure out how you see your family time. How you want to be able to parent. Then work at plugging in the concessions you're willing to make in terms of the job and career trajectory. Both of you. Not just you. And don't think it's set in stone. Chances are first try isn't going to work. You'll be having the conversation again six months, a year after you're back to work. Again when the kiddos are headed into school. Teens. It's just how it works. That's life."

She just ran her hand through her hair at that and took another drink out of her mug.

"For what it's worth," Hank graveled at her, "as your father and grandfather, if there was more you found yourself liking about the Investigator work than you didn't, think that would be smart to give some serious thought to doing your first bit back in our offices here, if they'll have you. And, if you're planning on making a run at getting back on the force, look at the detective groups that either are on the same rotation as 21 or pick one that's got the more traditional 8.5 hours most cases than not. Cold Case might be smart. Maybe Missing Persons but think you likely shot yourself in the foot on that one, Kiddo."

She exhaled at that and he just smacked at her.

"Might want to look at Homicide or Hate Crimes. Anything in Special Investigations might see your jacket land at the top of the heap with some of the gigs you've had if you play it right." He gave a little shrug. "Warrants and Fugitive Apprehension would get you in the field more if that's where your priorities are."

She just sighed and shook her head. "I don't know what I want to do …," she mumbled.

"Can tell," he said. "But it's not a one-way conversation or decision at this point. Not all on you."

She just twisted her mug and tried to wrap her head around it some more. He was right there was a balance involved. It was just figuring out that balancing at seemed so fucking complicated. And as much as she understood that it wasn't all on her – that they were Jay's kids too and he'd have to make concessions and adjustments too – it sure felt like the expectation was that she was the one that do a 180 on her career. Especially with her being the one home right now. And the woman.

It fucking pissed her off more than she imagined. Because maybe she'd deluded herself into believing it wouldn't be this hard or this much of an issue for her. For who she was and how she was. For where she was in the career and her connections and experience. But it sure fucking felt like society – the job – were designed to pretty much side-line you after you decided you wanted a family. Not men. But women.

There was a click and a clatter beside them and they both looked to watch Ethan and Bear come into the kitchen. Eth stared at her but went and leaned against his dad, Hank wrapped his arm around him.

"Hey, Kiddo …"

"What you guys doing?" Eth asked, looking back and forth between them.

Erin allowed her brother a thin smile in his timid examination of her as he weighed his dad's response and the body language in front of him.

Hank shook his head and shrugged, pulling his mug back up off the table. "Drinking coffee. Talking."

"'Bout me?" he asked. "I heard my name."

"Mmm," Hank smacked and gave him a look. "Can hear that but can't hear your alarm going off every morning?"

Ethan sighed at him.

"Weren't talking about you," Hank nodded at him.

Ethan considered that. Erin wasn't sure he believed his dad but he dropped it. "Are we gonna do something today?" he asked.

"Think I'm your entertainment committee?" he nodded at his son, giving him some stern eyes but betraying his affection and openness to hearing Ethan out in the way his arm was draped around him and holding him close, giving him light taps against the belly.

"Even your ideas of entertainment have to be way better than watching Blaze and the Monster Machines with a three-year-old, Dad," Ethan said.

Hank grunted but gave his kid a smile. "That's just real good uncle entertainment committee work, Magoo." He nodded over at Erin. "What did you get stuck watching with this one for hours on end?"

"Ah …," Erin smiled and stared up at the ceiling. "Bob the Builder. Magic School Bus."

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged. "You mom loved the educational programming."

"Dinosaur Train," Erin added. "Dino Story."

"Oh, that one was good," he nodded and looked up at Eth. "Real annoying." He snapped his fingers at Erin. "Stegosaurus walking through the forest."

Erin let herself laugh at his graveled attempt at singing the toddler song. But she looked at Ethan and joined in, providing Hank with some more of the lyrics. "Stegosaurus, walking through the forest. Stop, eat a fern and some moss. What a treat. Walk with me, I will show you what to eat."

"Mmm …," Hank grunted and looked up at the kid. "Maybe that subliminal messaging's why we've got a salad lover."

"Dad …," Ethan huffed.

"What was that other one?" Hank snapped again.

"I think there was one for every kind of dinosaur," Erin muttered.

"Speicies," Ethan corrected. And she only smiled again.

"Nah," Hank snapped again and looked up at Ethan. "Hey little dinosaur, looking so small. I'd have to eat ten of you to be full at all."

"Dad," Ethan whined harder.

But Erin smiled more. "These are songs that never leave you head, Ethan. What? Twelve years later?" She looked at Hank. She knew the song he was attempting there. "Hey big dinosaur, don't eat me, I don't taste very good."

"That's it," Hank graveled.

"I'd give you indigestion, I'm sure that I would," Erin provided.

"You're both being so stupid," Ethan groaned.

Hank just patted at his belly again. "You guys wonder why you've got screen-time rules. How you think I liked coming home to two teens whining about Dino Story up on the screen. Finally get it turned off and have to endure Dawson on the Hill shit."

Erin rolled her eyes. "Dawson's Creek," she muttered. "And as soon as Steph and her crew ditched me that stopped real quick. Long before Dino Story was on the TV hours at a time."

Hank just grunted some clear disagreement about how torturous and annoying any of her or Justin's viewing preferences had been. But he looked at his son.

"Don't think the Monster Machines out there are so bad."

Ethan huffed harder and slumped against him more. "Can we please do something else?"

Hank held at him. "What you thinking?"

"I don't know," Ethan sighed. "A movie?"

Hank made another quiet acknowledgement of that suggestion. And gave Ethan an examination. Erin could tell he was weighing how the kid was doing and where he was at. And she knew that it was pretty easy to see that he wasn't doing that great. But that's not what Hank told him.

"A bit of a night, Magoo," he nodded at him. "Feeling pretty tired."

Ethan let out a quiet sigh and looked hopefully at her. "Fantastic Beasts is out," he pleaded.

She allowed him a weak smile. "I can't, Eth," she gave her head a little shake. "Not with Jay sick. Maybe over the Thanksgiving break."

The sigh got a little louder and he looked back at his dad. "Then can I call Caroline and see if she wants to hang out or go over to RIC or something?"

Hank shook his head and looked at him a bit more seriously. "Not happening this weekend. Think you need to take it easy too."

Ethan put a bit more weight against him like that was somehow going to sway his argument and not just betray that he was tired and hurting too.

"How about we just do a munch to a movie here after Olive takes off with H. Your pick," Hank offered.

Ethan exhaled slowly and stared with tired eyes at his dad. "A new release? Not Netflix." The last part was an order. "Han Solo. Finally."

Hank hated being presented with demands from his kids nearly as much as he hated Star Wars. But apparently Hank was willing to accommodate that day. Likely a betrayal of his own fatigue from the case too. He patted Ethan's belly again. "Your pick," he reaffirmed. "Pull out the credit card if I need to."

Ethan flopped against his side a bit more. Ethan wasn't much taller than Hank when his dad was sitting down and his ear rested against the top of Hank's head as he thought about that compromise. Erin knew he should likely accept it – since it was likely the only option that was going to be available to him if he wanted his dad to be his entertainment committee. Otherwise he was going to have to figure out what to do with his Saturday afternoon himself – which should probably be a nap for both of them. Though, a Star Wars movie sounded like nap time to her anyway.

"Can we at least get some chips or nachos or something?" Ethan sighed.

Hank grunted and reached up to the mail and magazine rack, digging out his wallet from its poor hiding spot in behind them.

"Wouldn't be much of a movie munch without snacks," he allowed and pulled out a ten and held it at Magoo. "That enough?"

Eth's forehead rested against his Dad's. "Twenty?" he suggested.

Hank stared back at him through his thick lens. Hank a little cross-eyed – Ethan not. His eyes weren't working that day. Or any other day Erin had seen him that week. "Twenty bucks of junk food?" Hank rasped at him. It wasn't going to happen.

And Ethan knew it too. He took the money and straightened, Hank giving him another little tap as he did.

"Take your mutt," he said. "Go grab the provisions."

Ethan gave a little nod and slapped at his own pant leg to draw Bear away from the pets Erin was giving the dog.

"If I just use it to get like nachos and pintos can we make real nachos?" Ethan asked before moving out the back breezeway.

Hank grunted at that and pointed at the fridge. "Check to see what the salsa situation is," he provided.

It earned a little smile and Eth went over, pulling open the door. But Hank hadn't waited for the intel. He'd already opened his wallet again and held out the requested twenty when Eth came back by.

"There tomato and onion in there?" he asked.

Ethan shrugged. "I dunno."

Hank gave him a little, annoyed puff but handed him the bill anyway. He got up and went and pulled open the fridge and then the freezer himself as Eth headed into the breezeway to pull on his coat and boots. A pack of ground turkey got yanked from above and taken over to the sink, dropped down into it as Hank cranked the hot water and then went and leaned against the jam watching his son.

"Grab a tomat and an avocado too," he nodded. "Some jalapeño and olives if you want."

"'Kay," Eth muttered.

Hank stepped outside Erin's view and she could hear him talking at Bear, and presumably snapping his leash on him for Ethan. There was additional movement out there and she could tell Hank had squatted down to lace up Ethan's boots for him.

She'd already had to do the same that morning he was tremoring so badly. And she'd have to find a way to bluntly put to the both of them that it was time to move to pull-on boots or slip-on shoes. She knew Hank likely realized that but Ethan hadn't been ready to accept it.

She stared off into the front room, wondering – worrying about – what kind of blunt conversations and decisions she'd have to make for her own son. She sighed a bit and rose, going over into the room. She stared at the screen for a moment and Henry glanced at her.

"Hi Tarin," he said.

She scuffed his hair a bit. "Is this a good one?"

He nodded hard. "It weally good. Baze haffa shift gears to beat Cusher to get Sarla's piston."

"Ah …," Erin nodded and watched the 'which number is bigger' back-and-forth preschool challenge on the screen. "Who do you think is going to win?"

"Blaze," Henry nodded firmly.

"Have you seen it before?" she asked.

He nodded even harder. "Baze alway win."

"How many times?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Tirty maybe."

She smiled at that. He was talking out of his ass but it was likely a solid estimate.

"You think Mattie wants to keep watching it with you?" she asked but turned to give her little girl a big happy, silly face. Mattie squealed at her.

Henry gave her a glance. "She like Baze."

"Mmm …," Erin allowed. "I think you might be right. But," she said and moved to scoop up Eli, giving his happy face and little twist as she lifted him with a kiss as she moved him into the playpen too. "I think maybe she'd like it better if she got to watch it with her brother."

She settled EJ into the playpen and Mattie immediately plopped to her butt and flopped closer to him to babble at him. Eli reached to press at her face. She was likely so close to him that he couldn't really make her out. But he still verbalized to her too.

The twins already had a whole little language with each other in their interactions. It was something that she did like being home for. When they were like this she could sit and watch it and try to figure out what they were communicating to each other for as long as they'd let her. Hopefully right then they'd give her a few more minutes.

"You two going to play nice for a little while longer so I can keep talking to Popa until Daddy gets here."

They didn't care she'd even talked to them. No acknowledgement. They were in full-on babble and stare and poke at each other mode. Eli's little arms and legs flailing at his sister's examination of him. They were so excited to be back close to each other. Sometimes Erin wondered too how long that would last before they really did bicker and fighter like siblings. But for now Eli tried to show off – pulling his feet up and grabbing at his toes.

Erin smiled and let herself start to back out of the room but she kept her eyes fixed there – watching for any fights, such as they were now. Swatted faces, nail scratches, gnawing on each others toes and elbows and slobbering all over each others faces was pretty common at this point in their flailing attempts to rollover and get mobile.

As long as no one took out an eye or managed to suffocate the other she wasn't too worried about it. They usually did their own shrieking at each other already if they were unhappy with what the other was doing. But she still kept a close eye on these interactions just to make sure they were safe.

She gave Hank a glance as she settled back at the table. He was staring back into the front room too.

"Ethan seems like he's struggling a lot lately," she said. "He was pretty incoherent last night."

Hank grunted. He scrubbed at his face a bit. She didn't think he'd managed to shave yet that day and she thought the stubble was bothering him.

"Yea. Double-whammy," he muttered. "Injection on Thursday nights and then tapered up on that new med again," he muttered. "Is in a bit of a stupor the first few days each time. Combined with the fucking flu symptoms with the injection."

"So another two not working," Erin mumbled.

Hank grunted more firmly at that and gave her a glance. "Nah, got high hopes for both. This new one – the pills - E's seeing changes."

"What's this one supposed to be doing?" she asked exhaled. She was losing track. But they were in another phase where Hank just wasn't keeping her as caught up on what was happening with Ethan's appointments. Or even what treatment plan he was one and what medications they were pumping into him. And, she knew she hadn't been doing too well at forcing herself to keep on top of it either.

He made a sound in his throat and went back to gazing at his grandkids. "Modulate the immune response. Slows the growth of some type of cells they think are related to the M.S. lesions. So basically should be reducing inflammation too."

"He was complaining he was in pain this morning," Erin provided.

Hank nodded. "Yea," he acknowledged. "His back seems to really be bothering him in the mornings. Wakes him up," he made a gesture. "Four a.m. at my door near tears lately."

"Telling me that might've been nice," she said.

He gave her a look and gestured into the front room again. "Got enough to worry about. Pain passes with a bit of heat pretty quick."

"His tremor is bad," she said flatly.

It got another shrug. "Told to expect increased fatigue and spasticity while its body worked itself out on this stuff."

"Well that's fantastic …," Erin mumbled.

And he only shrugged. "Not going to fix the problems already there. Upped his propranolol to try to help with the tremor. But …"

"Yea, that's working real well too," she said.

Hank exhaled. "Yea, any way, these drugs are supposed to be changing something to do with opioid receptors and the biological activity around these cell. Off-label shit," he grumbled. "Low dose of some drug they usually give to the pill-heads, opioid addicts. Wean them off."

Erin gave him a dismayed look. "That sounds intense."

He made another dismissive gesture. "Real low dose compared to what they give them. Different function. Some new area of research. Seems promising. E bought into the spiel the doc gave. Wanted to try it. Seems to think he's feeling a difference. I feel like I'm noticing some difference in him. So we'll ride it out until he tells me otherwise."

"How long are you letting him ride it out?"

He gave her a smack. "Until he tells me otherwise," he put bluntly.

"His eyes are acting all weird again, Hank," she pressed.

"I know."

"And you aren't going to follow up on that?"

"I take him in and they decide it's a new optic lesion, he's hospitalized and they're pumping him full of steroids again. For weeks. He doesn't want that."

"He's a kid," she pressed harder because she'd been thinking too much about this - the medical decisions you had to make. What was best for them. You having to decide and make those choices and watch them go through it. She'd had to do it in NICU. she knew she'd have years more of doing it.

"He's old enough and has been through enough he's earned the right to have an opinion and say in his treatment. It's his health and his life."

"And the rest of us just have to watch him eat it."

"No," he looked at her firmly. "I'm his father and the parent and have sat through a whole lot of doctor babble at this point. I know when and where the line gets drawn. But E and I have a deal. And us reaching that understanding got him out-patient when it didn't look like he'd be getting home for a long time. And him having some control keeps him moving forward and fighting. Gives him reason to. I'm not going to fuck that up."

She just sat there. Because what did you say. When it scared her about what kinds of conversations and decisions and deal-making they'd have to make in their future.

maybe her face gave that away.

"Follow-up scans and labs, treatment assessment every three months. There's eyes on him," he provided. Like that was a consolation prize to any of them. It didn't even sound like a consolation to him.

Erin just gazed at him even though he was back to staring at his grandkids. She let herself sigh and he gave her a glance. "Hank, you know, just because I have the twins now doesn't mean you can't talk to me about this stuff. Or that I don't want to hear it."

He just gave her an indifferent frown and shook his head. "There's nothing to talk about," he said. "Biggest complaints I got about it is that you have to go to the fucking compounding pharmacy to get the stuff. And that just makes submitting a claim a whole lot of extra paperwork."

"Hank …," she sighed at him.

He shrugged. "Only other thing I've got is the night sweats it's giving him has got me doing laundry nearly every day of the week."

Well, that was good to know. If she wasn't going to change the sheets upstairs before – she would now. Not that her and Jay would likely be the ones sleeping in the master bedroom next either. But still – give Ethan clean sheets for the next time he was over. Would've been nicer if he'd told her himself. Also explained why he was down the stairs in his boxers that morning and the rest of his sleep clothes MIA while acting like he was as freezing and feverish as Jay, wrapping himself in every blanket in the living room.

"And has him up at 4 a.m. in tears apparently," she mouthed.

Hank just made a sound and looked at the babies again. "Yea, some of that is vivid dreams," he muttered. "Got warned about that. It's screwing with brain receptors. And E's got enough going on inside that head of his. So it's pulling up some unsettling things. Dreams. Nightmares."

"So neither of you are sleeping again," she said.

He just grunted and shrugged.

"You look worn out, Hank," she pressed.

He just hummed at that and scratched as his scruff again like he was suggesting that he could fix that as soon as he got up to the bathroom for a shave.

"Ethan's worried about you," she said. "I am too."

"I'm fine …"

She just watched him but he wasn't looking her in the eye anymore.

"When's the last time you had a drink?" she pressed.

Still didn't look at her. "Day or two," he said flatly.

She nodded. "And a smoke?"

A smack and a glare. So last night.

"Speaking of family concessions and negotiations and being old enough to remember the way things were, Hank, I remember where the smoking was on the list when Ethan got to the scene," she nodded at him.

"Like you getting on this topic about as much as you like me bringing up your playing house," he rasped.

"Well, here we are, Hank," she said and got a firmer look. She softened hers. "I know you aren't doing it at home. I know you're working through the rings of hell. But as a mom, I'll quote Camille and tell you I really don't like that getting near the babies – even if it's just second-hand on your clothes. And, as your daughter, I'll tell you – again – I want you around. That Ethan needs you around. Eli and Mattie deserve to grow up with their grandpa not just around – but healthy."

"Mmm …," was all he gave. But at least it was some acknowledgement that he'd heard her. Again. If he listened – yet – would be another thing.

"I know you still see me as your kid, Hank," she tried and that did get another glance.

"You are my kid."

She gave him a slanted look. "I care about you, Hank. I love you. And I'm willing to talk or listen to whatever you need to talk about."

He just grunted and went back to staring into the front room. Only for a moment until he stood and went over there, leaning into the playpen and pulling EJ up to him and giving him a big, big smile.

"Saw that, Big Man," he graveled at him. "You being a Bash Brother to your Tilly Girl?" Eli just grinned and gurgled at him. "Oh, you think that's going get you outta it?"

He pulled EJ to him and walked him back to the kitchen, reclaiming his chair and bouncing him on his knee, doing his best to center all his attention on him. Erin let him. Maybe the time with his grandkids would make him keep his head on straight. Because sometimes these days she felt like they were dealing with a ticking time bomb. Something was going to go off eventually. With how he was – and wasn't – dealing with all this.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked finally as she watched them.

He gave her a glance and a grunt. She took it as a yes.

"Ethan. Were you and Camille still trying?"

His eyes set on her again with that and he turned Eli away from him, drawing him into his lap. Hank's arms curled around him to rub at the little boy's ear lobe.

Both of her kids loved when Popa did that just as much as Henry had and as she'd seen Ethan lean into it when he was a baby too. They liked it more when Popa did it than either her or Jay. They'd tried it but she didn't think they had the pressure or the tension quite right. Or their finger pads didn't just have the same rough, work- and weather-worn feel as Hank's.

"Why?" he asked.

She shook her head and stared at EJ's little face. It was already relaxing as his head leaned into Popa's chest. His eyes grew heavy like he was ready to take a nap.

"Lots of reasons," she muttered. "And no reason."

He grunted and stared at her. But he just gave his shoulders a little shrug. "We weren't trying. But we weren't not trying."

Erin made a noise. She knew that was a fair answer. She knew that was probably the answer that was attached to a whole lot of people's existence if they were born to a married couple. She wasn't sure she expected any thing more than that. Or what she even expected.

"Why?" Hank nodded at her again.

Erin shrugged and stared at Eli. "The miscarriages," she allowed. "I can't imagine … to keep trying …"

Hank hummed a bit and dragged his one thumb down his cheek again. She thought that was all she was going to get but then he slowly said more.

"Cami had started in on menopause," he provided after a long pause with a smack and then made another rolling gesture with his free hand. "So things weren't happening every month. We'd never really completely stopped trying. But Camille …" he shook his head and rolled his eyes a bit. "Ideas about what parts of Catholicism she hadn't lapsed on."

Erin allowed a thin smile and reached across the table to rub EJ's little hand. His eyes were getting so heavy. "I'm familiar with that Catholic ideology."

Hank grunted and brushed at his grandson's few little wisps of hair that were trying to grow on his head. "Rhythm method," he muttered.

She gave him a look. "Really?"

He just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

She made an amused noise. "With how much she preached condoms and birth control at me and Justin?"

"Hmm …," he allowed and gave his head a little shack again.

"Jay has a whole lot of opinions on birth control too," Erin mumbled.

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. "Guess that explains some more about the timing of ending up with two grandkids when you're living half way across the country."

She shrugged. "It'd be nice to put that all on him. But pretty sure I've got to take at least fifty percent ownership on what happened there and the piss-poor timing that went along with it."

He grunted and planted his lips against the crown of Eli's head. "Worked itself out well enough," he whispered there.

"It's the hormones and chemicals," she said. "The same reason that vein is going to start pulsing in his forehead when I tell him you've got Eth on meds that are modifying opioid receptors. It's just drugs and medications and putting them into your body. Long-term effects and unknowns. Generally. Reads too much about that stuff. His mom …"

Hank made a small sound of acknowledgement. "Well, your body, your choice. But wouldn't recommend Cami's choice for when you get into that stage of your life."

She allowed a thin smile.

Hank shrugged. "But it'd been so hard for us to get a pregnancy to stick, we'd just sort of reached an understanding that if we kept at it and it happened – it was supposed to happen. Just don't think either of us had been expecting it at that point in our lives."

She allowed a thin smile. "But he's a really good kid."

Hank nodded. "He is," he agreed firmly. "And he was supposed to happen. Really believe that. Gift Cami left for me." He gave a smack and she saw his eyes water a bit. He nodded again. "Gift – responsibility – Al sacrificed so I could keep." He gestured at her, Eli … over into the front room. "All this. All you."

She eyes rimmed too and she reached out to find his free hand on the table while Hank rubbed more at EJ's ear and bounced his knees under the drowsy baby even more. They sat like that for long, quiet moments. Hank staring down at Eli and avoiding looking at her. She knew he was struggling to calm his emotions. The way his thumb kept stroking across her clutched hand betrayed it even more than the fact he wasn't looking at her.

"The doctors said it's probably not a good idea for me to get pregnant again," Erin said quietly and she felt him shift his gaze and gripped at her hand a little more. "That it'd likely be dangerous for me. And the baby." She tried to shrug but instead ended up shaking her head and reaching to swipe at her own tears. "And it …" she shook her head again. "I don't even … "

His hand held hers harder. "It's a lot to process," he nodded at her.

"Yea," she acknowledged. She'd had months to process that information – but hadn't told Hank. She didn't know how – or if she should. Or how she felt about any of it. She swiped her eyes again. "I went with the injection … what happened … the delivery … an IUD wasn't even an option. So now it's a conversation we have to have every … three months."

He held her hand a bit more.

"But at least we don't have to … worry about it right now," she tried – likely to assure herself more than him. "But Jay thinks we – he – should do something more permanent. But I just … right now I can't imagine going through a pregnancy again. But …" she shrugged. But it was hard to know – realize and accept – that that door would be completely closed. That that was what made sense for her health. For her life.

"Big move," Hank allowed. "It's good you aren't rushing yourselves on it."

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **Split again. More to come.**


	23. Remembering

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Erin nodded and let out a slow exhale before looking at Hank again. "It's not that we aren't talking about … marriage. It's that …" she shook her head. "It feels like we're having to have all these other conversations. That are more pressing."

Hank stroked his thumb across her hand a bit more. "Kiddo, to me it sounds like you're having the kind of pressing conversations a married couple has."

She sighed again and brought her free hand up to her face while she stared at her son – and the guy who raised her. "It feels too like everything we talked about about how we were going to deal with any of this, during the pregnancy, it was just pointless. A waste of time. That it all just went out the window and now we've spent six months in damage control. That we're just starting to get a handle on it and it's like now everyone expects me to know what I'm doing with getting back to work. For us to be just back on track for wedding bells. When it's like we're just finally starting to maybe see a break in the woods."

"That's the trick, Erin," he nodded at her. "Going to be lots of times you think you see a break in the thick of it. But by the time you get up to it – it's just going to be more and more trees. There's always going to be something. And I know when it comes to personal life stuff, you like to over think things a bit too much. But you don't need to because life gives you – it just necessitates – a whole lot of times you're going to change course. And you will. Adapt. Survive."

She nodded and just stared at her son. Hank rubbed at her hand.

"You've got to trust yourself, Erin," he tried again. "And not be too hard on yourself. No one knows what they're really doing. But I see the kind of parents you and Jay are working at being. I know the two of you. And you've just got to know you will do what you need to do for your kids. Might feel hard and confusing navigating that right now but when you're in the thick of it – your gut and your heart are just going to instinctively tell you what you need to do for yours. And you'll do it. Need to trust me that's the way it works."

"Not always …" she muttered. She knew that from experience.

"It will for people like you and Jay," he nodded at her. "I'm not worried about that for you two or for my grandkids at all."

She gave him a weak smile at that attempt. She knew she wanted the reassurances from him. That out of all the people she knew that he was probably one of the only ones who she might believe when he told her she wasn't her mother. She wasn't Bunny.

Even though she knew she wasn't. She'd already been through enough with her babies to know she wasn't. She knew that if Bunny had been in this situation – if she'd been born this way – she would've been left to die.

"He was nearly five days old before Jay told me he'd been born without vitals," Erin let slip out at a near whisper, still staring at her son. It was another squeeze on her hand that brought her eyes back to Hank.

"You weren't in a place to hear it yet, sweetheart," he rasped. "You were pretty bad shape those first days."

"We all were," she muttered. Because it was true. In different ways and for different reasons but all just mushing into the same big, complex mess. One that they all were still trying to sort out and cope with. She pressed her hand against her temple more. "What happened in the OR, I feel like I wasn't there for them."

He shook his head at her. "Erin, that's being too hard on yourself. What happened was outside your control."

"It's screwed with Jay's head more," she muttered. "The look he gets sometimes …"

"He would've been real scared, Erin," he graveled.

"I know …" she admitted. Scared he was going to lose them – her. But not scared enough to be ready for marriage. Still hurt by her – or hurt more. More reason to think she might leave him or let him down. Let their kids down.

"Know the look I see him get a whole lot of the time I see the four of you together?" Hank nodded at her. And she gave him a look herself. "Look of a guy that's just completely taken with his family. A lot of love there. No tough guy mask in those moments."

She allowed a thin smile. She knew that was true. Jay was gah-gah over his babies. And Eli and Mattie looked back at him with such glee too. Especially Eli – the look he gave Jay. He was Daddy's. And Mattie was all Daddy's girl too. He doted on both of them. And the way he interacted with them – and they did right back with him – it'd been this added understanding of just what not growing up with a father and not even having a name or face to put to him did to her. The hole that was there. That Hank had helped fill but had never really entirely made up for that absence that Bunny had elected for her to have in her life. And she just couldn't imagine doing that to her kids either. She couldn't imagine doing it to Jay. Not with the way he looked at his little girl and his baby boy.

"The miscarriage … the baby was a boy," she said quietly.

And Hank's grip on her hand grew firmer again.

"And I don't think … I hadn't let myself deal with it too much before. With everything."

"That takes a lot of time too," he said.

She nodded. "Now. I feel like I think about it more. About him."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed.

She stared at Eli and then pulled her hand from Hank's to put out her arms and reach for him. Hank handed him off to her and she drew him close, cradling him in her arms. He settled, his mouth and nose still rutting at her breast even though he knew that wasn't where his milk came from. But he still did that every time he cuddled into her And she just looked down at him.

She felt Hank watching and she finally let herself look at him.

"Sometimes I get stupid … feel like … I had twins because of … now …"

Hank just hummed acknowledgement at that and gave her a small shrug. "Life's got its own plans for all of us," he allowed.

But her eyes watered again and she reached and swiped the back of her hand against them.

"I've been struggling with trying to … force some kind of meaning on all of it since that appointment," she admitted. "And that's not the way life works. Life just … happens. There's not some big plan."

Hank let out an exhale. "Erin, I don't know," he said. "That's about the only thing I know when it comes to any meaning or ways of the universe. But my experience is … my feeling is … you get the family, the kids, you need and deserve. Eventually. If you're open to it."

She stared at him and then looked down at her infant. "Then what does it mean that I had twins, Hank?" she muttered. "That I got a boy and a girl when I lost a little boy? That Eli was born dead – when Al had just died. And then the doctors were able to bring him back to us? What does any of that fucking mean? Why did it happen?"

She watched the way he elongated his chin and pulled in his cheeks. She could tell he was holding back tears even harder than she was rather unsuccessfully fighting hers.

"Only way I know how to answer that, Erin, is to tell you the same thing. That life found a way and it gave you what it thought your family needed. And you've just got to try to focus on that gift. And be open to it. Let it work out the way it will work out. And it will – as long as you keep working on it."

She gave him a watery smile. "That's helpful, Hank, thank you." It wasn't at all.

"It's all I've got, Kiddo."

She looked down at EJ again. She stroked at his little, soft cheek. She could feel Hank watching them.

"You asked about the miscarriages," he rasped at her and she gave him a small look. He was rubbing his thumb against his own cheek. "Sometimes it's having to deal with the big things – real things, trauma – as a couple that tells you what you really need to know about the relationship."

She gave him a little sigh. She didn't know if she could do the marriage talk again – now. She thought they'd both gotten as far as they could right now in saying anything about it.

"That's not me busting your chops," he nodded at her. "And I'm not going to pretend I understand where Jay's head is at or the thought process he's going through that's creating these speed bumps in him manning up. But I will say, Erin, that I know he's got your back. Spouse or not – he's on your team. So lean on him. Lean on each other. It will help."

She allowed him a thin-lipped smile – that was more of a frown trying to be something else. "We are …," she assured. Because they were. It was just hard. There were only so many hours in the day and there was so much that needed their attention. And they only had two hands. And 29 and a day was never enough to get through what they needed to get through. To sort it out and settle. To know how to do any of this yet – when Hank just said they never were really going to know. And that was scary too.

But then there was the trampling of toddler feet charging their way. And she didn't have to think about it – not right then.

Hank shifted his eyes that way too – dropping it. "That a herd of rhino in my house?" he rasped at his grandson.

Henry charged flailing arms into his grandpa. "It 'Enry, Papa," he said and flapped his sippy cup up at him. "More wawa!"

"Mmm …," Hank nodded at him but gave him a bit more serious look. "I hear a please in there?"

"PEAS!" Henry near shouted.

Hank gave his eyes a little roll and pulled himself out of his seat, heading over to the sink with Henry right on his tail – grabbing urgently at the back of Hank's belt while the cup was getting filled back up like he was on the verge of dying of dehydration if he didn't get a mouthful of water right this instant.

"There," Hank grumbled, handing it back to the kid. Henry urgently sucking on it and giving a great big smack and "Ahhhhhhh!" as he finished and then dove back in for a second round.

It got another shake of the head as Hank came back to the table and sat back down. Henry clomped right back over too and clambered right into Hank's lap. He shifted a little uncomfortably in the chair.

"Got pitchfork knees, H," he muttered as the little boy squirreled around restlessly finding just the right position while still sucking on the cup. "You just gonna park it out her and leave our Tilly Girl out there all alone?"

Henry gave a look back into the front room – and so did Erin. But Mattie seemed momentarily distracted with one of the plush rattles in the playpen. She kept shaking at it hard and then just staring at it like she expected it to do something more.

Henry didn't seem too bothered by the situation either – or have any interest in heading back in there now that he was in his popa's lap. He leaned right into Hank's chest.

Henry had a thing for his grandpa too. Probably just as much or more than the thing Hank had for Henry. They both had each other up on pedestals. Henry got away with a whole lot at Popa's house. Way more than any of them had gotten away with growing up in the Voight house. But Hank's only comment when her or Ethan brought that up was a smack and a graveled, 'The grandparent, not the parent with this one.' Apparently that yielded a whole lot of special privileges for the kiddo in question and a completely adjusted paradigm when it came to parenting – grandparenting.

Henry looked back and forth between them as he sucked on his drink, his little head cocking a bit as he stared at her.

"You cwyin' 'Tantie?"

Erin gave him a weak little smile at that observation. "Not really, Henry."

But he just looked up at his Popa and examined him too. "Papa and 'Tantie sad?"

Hank just hummed recognition at him and wrapped his arms around him a bit.

"You 'memberin'?" Henry asked quietly and stared at his Popa more. "Mama sad when 'memberin'?"

Hank's face settled into a deeper frown and he gave his grandson's ear a little tug. "Maybe that's a bit of it there, H."

Henry looked up at him more urgently, shifting his position again in a way that Hank's face betrayed had likely resulted in a foot or knee crushing into his crotch. "I tell you my 'Appy Ist," he spewed. "It make mama 'Appy my 'Appy 'Ist."

Erin smiled a bit at that. And so did Hank.

Sometimes it felt like getting to the point that the twins were walking, talking little people with all kinds of personality showing felt so far off. But sometimes she found herself just waiting for it and wondering about it. About who these little people would actually be. What kind of personalities and quirks they'd have. How much more like her or Jay they'd realize they were when all that started coming out. Because she'd watched it with Ethan and him growing up. And now she was seeing all these little glimpses of Justin in his son. That funny, big hearted, good little boy that he was when she first came home. Just a good, good guy who wanted to make people happy. But unfortunately had found so many wrong ways to go about doing that. And hopefully it wouldn't be the same with Henry.

"Let's hear it," Hank said.

"'Ockey!" Henry immediately declared.

Hank smiled again at that. "Mmm …," he acknowledged. "Hawks make me pretty happy too. Especially their banner years."

Henry nodded like he had any clue what Hank had just said. "Baze!" he added.

Hank made another sound of acknowledge. "Suppose I like a nice rig with some good horse power under the hood too."

"Dah!" Henry said. "And big weels! And big chah-sie!"

Erin allowed a little laugh to slip out. "You know what a chassis is, Henry?"

"Dah. Part of da monter tuck!" And he looked at his popa again. "Monter tucks make me 'appy too too, Papa."

"Mmm, so I've heard," Hank graveled. "Hear too Monster Trucks are all you're asking Santa for for Christmas this year too."

Henry nearly jumped up to his knees on Hank's lap again and Erin watched Hank jump too – reflexes reaching to grab at and redirect where those pokers fell before they ended up landing too close for comfort again.

"I tell 'Tanta to bing a pie-rat, monter truck, Hot Weel!"

Erin let out a laugh. "With an order that specific, I think it's good you're getting your request in this early, Henry."

Henry nodded. "Dah. I tell 'im. Cuz I be good."

"But do you think his workshop really makes pirate, Monster Trucks Hot Wheels?" Erin said and looked at Hank.

Henry held up his hands in a shrugged question – like it was an answer with an obvious explanation. "He wok-shop make toy. And candy cane. I ask Tanta for candy cane too," he nodded hard.

Hank gave Henry's ear lobe a bit more of a massage, working on getting him to calm down a bit. It at least got him to settle his ass back into Hank's lap.

"I think Santa's workshop has already looked up the blueprints for the thing," he nodded at her. "Been hearing about the pirate monster truck—"

"HOT WEEL!" Henry added.

"For a while," Hank rolled his eyes.

"Ah," Erin allowed. "And Santa's got the machinery to get it coming down the line?"

Got another eye roll out of Hank. "Last I heard Santa weighing of how much was in the budget to get that request to arrive from the North Pole."

"Via the Amazon …," Erin provided.

He grunted. And she shook her head. She didn't want to think about what kind of price tag a request that random and specific would have. For a Hot Wheel. Lucky Olive.

"You think maybe you should have a back-up idea in case Santa's workshop can't make a pirate, Monster Truck Hot Wheel?" she put to Henry.

He squinted at her. "He wok-shop make toy, 'Tarin."

"Ah …," she said.

"And why we didn't have any the boys going and sitting on some guy in a red suit's knee …" he muttered.

Erin smiled at that. Maybe they didn't do that. But it still didn't stop Hank and Camille from tracking down increasingly random dinosaurs for Ethan over the years.

"Or start talking Christmas this far out," he added.

And she smiled more. Because she knew that would be driving Hank crazy. That in a week Ethan would be moving into full-on hit on every tradition he could mode. And he was also going to have a three and a half year old going increasingly off the walls over the next five weeks. That was a way to keep Hank looking sour. Definitely wouldn't be on his Happy List.

"Maybe 'Tanta bing a 'tand box too," Henry suggested.

"Sandbox in the winter?" Hank looked at him. "In the house?"

"They make those now," Erin provided. "Kinetic sand."

It got a real unimpressed look and a smack.

"Dah!" Henry said like he fully supported the idea. "And pie-rat, monter tuck Hot Weel play in tand box. Cuz day dig for tez-er!"

"Ah," Hank allowed. He was funny. He was good with kids. But sometimes his tone and looks still emitted how fucking ridiculous he thought every second of it was – even if he was dealing with a preschooler.

"Tand box on da 'Appy 'Ist," Henry added.

Hank grunted. And Henry was back on his knees and his hands smacking against Hank's cheeks in even wider-eyed excitement.

"We go play in tand box?"

Hank gave his grandson a look. "Let me get this straight," he nodded at him. "Popa freezes his nuts off all night at work. He takes you to the Ice House and works on the frost-bite blues a bit more. Now you want me to go sit out back with you in 35-degree drizzle?"

Henry just squinted at him. "Watcha talkin' 'bout Papa?"

"Mmm …," Hank allowed and leaned in giving the little boy a brief peck on the cheek and lifting him up by the armpits to set him back on the ground. "Popa never knows what he's talking about." He gave Erin a little look but just shifted his attention back to Henry, giving him a light tap against the ass. "Go get us some Hot Wheels with real good horse power for rucking through all that mud. Grab your shoes."

"Daaaaah!" Henry cheered and was already charging about a million miles an hour back into the front room. "'Tand box 'appy!"

Hank gave his eyes another little roll and straightened back up to give her a thin smile.

"I never thanked you," she said.

He gave a little shake of the head. He clearly didn't know what she was talking about either. "Don't think there's much I need any kind of thank you for."

She shook her head. "You risked your marriage and your family bringing me home."

"That's not the way I see it," he rasped.

"I know it caused a lot of tension between you and Camille."

He just made a dismissive sound at that and shook his head.

"She didn't even like me at first."

"She didn't like the lack of conversation in a big family decision," Hank said. "That was on me."

Erin just looked at him. "I know Bunny did what she could to … blow things up even more."

"And that wasn't on you either. That was all Bunny. We were fighting for our daughter."

"You didn't have to do any of that," she said.

He gave a smack. "You do when you're raising your kids, Erin. And you don't do that ever expecting any thank yous. That's not why you're doing it."

She opened her mouth to say more but there was a pound at the front door followed by it immediately popping open. And a hacking cough accompanying it as the house's warm air likely hit Jay in the chest again.

Hank made a gesture that way. "There he is …" It almost sounded like he was relieved Jay had shown. Maybe he was ready for the conversation to be over too. Maybe there was really only so much you could ever say.

Erin heard Henry charge over to Jay – and greet Un-call Tay and work on the motor-mouth that might be genetic in their family. Mattie had spotted him too and had let out a big gleeful shriek for him, working at pulling herself up to the ledge again. Only for Jay to appear in the front room with a wide smile and very silly face that just got her to giggle and shriek at him even more in her hopeful babbles that only increased as she bent over to pull her up – giving her a bit of the twist and shout shake that he did every time she reached up for him like that. Erin was pretty sure that Mattie thought her Daddy was a very talented dance partner – even though his feet never moved in the maneuver.

"What are you doing out here all alone?" he asked her, blowing a kiss against her cheek only to get more little baby giggles out of her.

He came into the kitchen, carrying their daughter and gave her a thin smile but she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Did you run here?" Erin asked.

He gave her a shrug and leaned forward to plant a kiss against her lips. But she didn't exactly return it. One – she still was a lot less comfortable than him being overly affectionate in front of Hank, as stupid as that was at this point. And two – she was a little pissed off that he'd come home sick and then suited up to jog over here.

"You're getting stupid on me," she muttered at him.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Yea, you looked real fine this morning," she muttered and touched his cheeks and forehead as he leaned over more to plant a kiss on EJ's sleeping forehead.

"It's sweat," he muttered at her.

"From a fever," she said. "You're burning up."

He made another dismissive noise and dangled Mattie over EJ. She was babbling and reaching at him now.

"You want to say hi to, Bubba?" he offered. He tried to hand Mattie over to her too but she gestured at Hank. He reached out to take his granddaughter nearly as gleefully as Mattie had been reaching for Jay when he came in the door.

Jay swiped at his forehead and moved over to the sink, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard and filling it with water for a long drink – followed by another.

"There's borscht in the fridge," Hank rasped at him, as he and her both settled the twins on their laps for them to slap at the tabletop and squeal at each other. They loved getting to talk at each other across the table. They'd learned that pulling placemats and table clothes were great fun.

"Really?" Jay perked up a bit.

"That will clear out whatever's ailing you," Hank said.

Jay nodded over at her. "We staying for a bit?"

"I hope not," she said and jutted her chin at Hank. "They're watching Solo this afternoon."

"E's watching Solo," Hank grumbled. "I'm resting my eyes."

Erin smiled.

"I think most of the critics did that too for that one," Jay said as he went and pulled open the door and grabbed out a take-out container. "Pierogi Haven?" he asked.

Hank grunted. "Caroline's mom sent it over."

Erin allowed a smile at that. "And she made it for you or for Ethan?"

That got a look and a smack. "Her in-law's restaurant made it and it's the day's scraping off the bottom of the pot."

"Best kind," Jay said. He apparently had decided he was more than comfortable enough – and proficient enough – in Hank's kitchen that he was already now grabbing a bowl.

"Heat it all," Hank said. "I'll have some. Try to get a bit into the boys."

Jay made a sound of acknowledgement and returned the bowl to locate the pots with just as much ease.

"Jay …," Erin called at him and he gave her a glance. "They're likely going to want their bottles soon too. Since you're feeling so much better."

He raised an eyebrow – but nodded.

Henry reappeared this time in Jay's shoes and four Hot Wheels overflowing in both of his little hands. He held them up at Hank and gave several really Riverdance stomps in Jay's runners.

Erin smiled. "Careful, Henry," she warned. "Uncle Jay is very, very protective of his running shoes."

"Day fast," he said and gave several more stomps, as Jay glanced over.

Hank reached and took the Hot Wheels from Henry. "Go get your own shoes, Rug Rat."

It got a pucker that looked like Henry was really trying to mirror looks he'd seen on Hank but then he did several little stomps in the shoes to inch himself facing the opposite way and then galloped out of the room – fast enough that his feet kicked out of and squished over the top of Jay's shoes as he did.

Hank gave his head a little shake and eye roll. But he leaned back over his shoulder and looked at Jay at the stove.

"Hear you're taking a sick day to get Thanksgiving all prepped for the family," he graveled.

Jay's eyes set on Hank and then moved right to her.

Erin shook her head. "He's messing with you," she said. She saw some relief wash over Jay and he gave no response to either of them, going back to obsessively stirring the pot like he did – until it boiled to the exact perfect temperature.

"Are you really not doing a turkey this year?" she put to Hank.

He shrugged at her and bounced Mattie up and down a bit on his knee. "Don't see the point with just me and Magoo. What he can eat and will eat."

"Olive's not coming over?" Erin asked.

He must made a sound and shifted his eyes a bit as Henry came back with his shoes and dropped them in a thud on the floor.

"Well, put them on," he nodded at him.

"Need 'elp," Henry said.

Hank shook his head. "You know how. Try on your own first." Henry crossed his arms and gave him a big huff and a bigger pout. But Hank only shrugged. "Guess you don't want to play in the sand box that bad then." It got a bigger huff but Henry flopped to the floor and started to work on making a big production of putting his shoes on – clearly making sure he purposely put them on the wrong feet and sticking his whole legs in the air while he did try to pull them on, only to stamp his foot over and over again on the floor, crushing the heel. But Hank just ignored the show – but his eyes right back on Erin.

"Olive's taking this one to the parade."

"And what about the rest of the day?" Erin asked.

Hank shrugged. "Not going to be food here for them. Might not even be here. Probably will end up getting called out while the bird was in the oven anyway. Don't want to leave E dealing with it. Burn the house down."

"Maybe it will be a quiet holiday," she offered.

He made a sound. "With the way this city's been blowing up this fall?" he shook his head. He clearly expected that he'd be out at scenes most of the day. "Appreciate if you invite E over if I'm out with calls."

She allowed a little nod. "We can do that." But she sighed and looked a bit over at Jay. "Jay, what are we doing for Thanksgiving?"

He gave her another look – a long one, that said he knew his prediction that it'd be them hosting if they wanted a meal that included turkey that year. But he eventually shrugged. "Told you I don't care as long as I'm not sitting listening to the $90 a plate sea bass that I'm expected to eat in a parish hall I never wanted to set foot in again rounded by people I had no qualms about ever seeing again."

And her and Hank shared a look and Erin made a small gesture Jay's way. "And that's where his head is at," she offered quietly.

And Hank grunted.

She shrugged at him, though. "We'll make dinner."

"I'm not taking a day off to make it. And no guarantees it will be turkey," Jay mumbled from the stove.

Hank just allowed a little nod of his own, his eyes fixated on – and rotating between –his three grandkids at that point. "Appreciate that," he allowed.

And Erin just watched him for a long moment. She watched him stare at the kids. And the twins socializing and babbling across the table from each other and in their arms. She looked at Henry working on a (still terrible) Threes moment. And gazed at Jay – still looking pale and clammy – but also still working on getting the bottles ready for the babies.

And she knew that Camille should've been there. And that Hank was likely thinking the same – every other little moment that was remotely similar to this and every one in-between.

She stared at Hank until he met her eyes – and gave her a questioning look. Some concern there again.

"Camille would be really proud of you," she offered.

That got a sound out of him and he looked away. But Erin reached across the table and grabbed his hand. It made Mattie stare and reach to wrap her little fingers around his index finger too – clutching at it. And Hank smiled a little.

"She would," Erin pressed gently. "You're a really good dad. I want you to remember that."

He gave her a look and a weaker smack.

"Just remember it, Hank," she said. "When you're feeling alone or like everything's spinning out. You've still got people who love you."

And his eyes sat on her for a long beat – sad and distant. Before he gave another weak little smack and went back to staring at his grandchildren in quiet succession.


	24. Listen to Me

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Voight was barely containing himself to go over while the paramedics did their job. From where he was didn't look like they had too much of a job to do – or that Halstead was hearing a fucking thing they were saying. Guy was clearly in a daze. Head turned all around backwards. Brain not running in any of the directions it should be. Couldn't tell if any kind of reality was starting to set in with the guy yet about just how fucking stupid what he'd done was. How fucking off base.

Wasn't going to listen to any lip about the pot calling the kettle black on that one either. Different. Damn fucking different now. For both of them. All of them.

Heard him being told he still needed to go to Med. For Internal. Listening real careful to make sure the guy didn't decline that. Have a whole lot more to say about that if he did. Beyond benched.

Possibility of broken ribs. That purple all over his chest and side screamed that and than some. Was going to be damn lucky if he just had some broken ribs in all this. Just some bruising. Was going to be surprised if the docs didn't come back saying he'd gone and bruised more inside him. Fucking spleen or something with that purple was. Even luckier if they didn't fucking come back saying there was some kind of rupture or bleed.

And should just enjoy the moment of that bruising be all there was. Because when Erin got wind of this – she wouldn't be no instanteous nurse maid. Paramedic telling him that the bruising Halstead had was a bitch. Doubt he'd really start to feel how bad it was until he got home and came down to reality some – with his new fucking reality right there in front of him. Then he'd feel the real sting of what he'd fucking done.

Through and through. Beyond lucky there. Just beyond. And there was no way they were through and through on this. Not right now. Not on the job. And sure as fuck not in the personal that Halstead had just made come colliding into work and smack them all in the face good. No through and through for this. Bullet might've spared him. Shit decision-making didn't miss its mark, though. This was no where near done.

Drugs in him now to dull it all. Just waiting for the edge of it to wear off. For him to come down from all of this some. And it was going to be a spectacular crash. Voight could fucking feel it. Grief, kill shot, fucking danger he'd put them all in. Fucking almost getting himself killed when he had a fiancée and two babies at home. That pain of reality better knock him backwards – knock some fucking sense into him – when it all started to dull.

But couldn't have him spinning out either. Fucking place set on the table for this kid to go into a tailspin right now as he did come down. As the drugs dulled. As all of it started to set in. And that tailspin – couldn't happen right now. Not an option. Not at work. And not at home.

Enough listening to the platitudes this EMT was giving him. Wasn't what Halstead needed right now. Voight was sick of listening to it. Time to start spinning that head around right again.

Voight shoved into their space. Got a look from the EMT. Didn't fucking care.

"You alright?" he asked.

He got a 'yeah' and not even a look in the eye. Reality was setting in. Wasn't sure which layer of it. But enough that Halstead – Jay – knew he had a whole lot to be feeling bad about in all this.

Hank stared at him. "Damn lucky," he provided. That didn't even capture the half of it. The kid should be dead right now. Real high likelihood that he should've been bleeding out in that fucking underpass when Upton and Ruzek got there.

Got a glance out of him. A glance and then he was back to staring at the ground. Like a teenaged kid. Like fucking dozens upon dozens of conversations he'd had to have with his own teenaged kids. With Erin and Justin and Magoo. None of them looking him in the eye. Knew they'd done wrong. Knew they'd fucked up. Knew they'd disappointed him. And seemed to think that not looking at him was enough of an admission of guilty. Enough of an apology and an acknowledgement.

It'd rarely been enough. Not with any of them. Not with the countless kids in street gangs he'd had to work with over the years – and the ones he'd had to lock up even if they'd tried to do some good. Not with all the young cops who had decided they were too big for their breeches and gone off half-cocked just like Jay did.

Difference was – Jay wasn't some greenie just brought into the fold. Wasn't patrol. Wasn't some rookie. And wasn't some kid who'd just been brought into his unit and thought being there five minutes meant he knew shit about being a cop in his city – or how he ran his team. How they fucking conducted themselves on the street.

Bigger difference was that Jay wasn't a kid. Not at work. Not on the fucking job. And not in the family. This was a man. A full grown-ass man. A fucking solider. A detective who'd done his ten. And the fucking would-be husband of his daughter. The fucking father of two of his grandkids. Two fucking babies who were going to more than need their dad growing up. A man who'd made fucking commitments to be there for his family. And he'd just went and fucking blown that up because he just fucking couldn't help himself.

"I know, I—" Jay started but Hank wasn't willing to hear any of it right now. There were no fucking excuses.

"No," he rasped at him. "You are done talking." And finally got some eye contact again. "I mean, done," he emphasized again with his hand. Fully cutting off any more interjection.

He'd sat through Halstead thinking he had something to say before. Heard him out. Locked horns with him. And shut him down before.

And he'd do it again now. Because right now – grief, convictions, codes – it didn't fucking matter. Too much on the table for those criteria to rise to the top right now.

Halstead could have it out with him later. Call him a hypocrite. Tell him he'd gone half-cocked more than once. Fine. And Voight would tell him right back to take a real long hard look at what any of that had done to his family. His family at home and his family on the job. Grief and justice – mashed up together don't ever yield the outcomes you want. Because karma is just a fucking bitch. And it's after your ass just as much as the bad guy's ass you think you're offing. Eats you up and spits you out in a whole lot of fucking ways.

Halstead wasn't him. And Voight expected better than him. The kids you bring up – they're supposed to be better than you. That's what you strive for.

He'd failed Jay there as much as Jay had gone and fallen on his face that day hard.

"You should be dead," he stressed at him. And the eyes moved away again. "Do you get that?"

It was a question. Something that clearly hadn't gone through the guy's head. Jay just hadn't been thinking. He hadn't fucking stopped to realize the fucking value of his life anymore. The fucking value – expectations – people had on him anymore.

He wasn't nothing and no one. He couldn't fucking go charging off like his life was. He was going to be – he fucking was – the center of at least two people's universes now.

And Hank wasn't doing this again. This soon after Al? When he'd lost a son already? When he'd lost a wife? When he'd lost a father to the job? When he'd lost other people under his command?

He just wasn't going to go there. He wasn't going to be the one having that conversation with his daughter. Not when it was an outcome that happened because Jay hadn't fucking listened. Hadn't taken an order. Hadn't done his job. He was not going home to his daughter and telling her that. He was not having to watch two more grandkids grow up without their father. Two more kids missing a parent in their lives. Not when Jay hadn't fucking listened.

Not out of revenge. Not when if you were going to go and do something like that – out of pure vengeance – you can't just act. You don't just react. You have to plan. You have to cover your ass. You have to know how to play the game and the ropes and the connections. You have to know how to operate in this fucking city. And it wasn't the same city for any of them to operate in anymore. Not in situations like this. It just didn't fly. It didn't work. It didn't get them anywhere. Not anywhere good.

He wasn't going to do this. Not when they'd locked horns about revenge and justice before. Not when he'd let Jay win before. When he'd listened to his convictions. When he'd admitted he was wrong. When he'd stepped back from that edge – and that fucking dock.

They weren't going to do this. Not professionally. Not personally. Not as men.

"You do not disobey a direct order from me," Hank rasped at him – hard.

First reaction he'd got from the guy. A bit lower lip. Some fucking acknowledgement. He was starting to realize. Starting to get it.

But it just made Hank angrier. "I don't care how angry you are," he fired at him. "You're mourning, grieving. Man, I don't care if your whole damn family just got murdered. YOU LISTEN TO ME," he screamed at him.

That was the deal. That was the fucking job.

And the look in Jay's eyes that time told him he was being heard then. He'd broken through that daze. He'd broken through his grief and his anger – and Jay was finally fucking hearing him.

Hearing him so hard it looked like the kid was going to cry. Maybe because Voight hadn't ever screamed at him in quite that way before. Maybe because Halstead hadn't fucking had another adult man tell him he was cared about in quite that manner before. Maybe because the guy had daddy issues and it was all just tumbling down.

And that just made Hank want to scream at him harder. Every fucking father and son had daddy issues. Who the fuck didn't have some problem with their father. What man didn't spend their whole fucking life trying to prove themselves to their father. What man didn't spend their whole fucking life feeling like they were falling short of ever doing that.

And Hank didn't fucking care. He didn't care if Jay and Pat Halstead didn't get along. He didn't care if they didn't see eye-to-eye. He didn't care what the fuck that man had done to his son. What that man had put him through that was so fucking visible in the kid it might as well seep through his pores.

Hank didn't fucking care. He knew how it played out. He knew how to be the son left behind. And he knew how to be the father left behind too. He knew all the fucking unresolved issues. He knew how it fucked with you and how it shaped you. And how it meant you went through life with a whole lot of lack of resolution. That you had final conversations you wished had been better. That there were a whole lot of things you left unsaid. Moments you wanted to hold onto. Things you wanted to forget. Pedestals you wanted to build. And ones you wanted to stripe away in trying to figure out what the fucking reality was of this person who's a fucking part of you.

"It's my job to keep you alive," he stressed at him. "To look out for you."

And that wasn't just professional anymore. It was personal. So fucking personal.

"I will always do my job," he spat.

Only right now Hank felt like he hadn't done his job. Like he'd fucking failed as a father somehow again. For all he'd taken Jay in. Fucking brought him into the unit – on the job and in his fucking home. How he'd spent so much time investing in him. As a cop with potential. As a man – who his daughter deserved. Who his grandkids deserved. Needed. As someone who he'd let be around his son. As someone who he'd given more fucking responsibility – rights and roles and commitments in his family when it came to Magoo – than he'd ever been able to trust his own son with.

He'd treated Jay like a son. Different than his other two sons. But he was a different person. And this was different. But he could see he needed that. He needed a fucking adult man to care about him. He needed some fucking example of what a father was or what kind of father he could be – if he wanted to be. He'd cared about him. He'd fucking gone out of his way to take care of him. To teach him. To give him opportunities and responsibilities. To let him make choices. To grow.

And Hank fucked up again. He'd missed something. Missed some lesson. Lesson himself from losing his own father too soon. Lesson that he didn't know how to teach to all these boys and young man he'd had in his life and his career. Some sort of lesson that he hadn't been able to teach about how to be a cop or a man or a husband or a father. A leader. Not a fucking lone wolf. Not some hyped up kid with a chip on their shoulder and a temper that had you boiling hot. Off the leash.

If he had his kids – his crew – looking at him and expecting that he wasn't going to go off-leash anymore, wasn't going to go off book anymore – than he sure as fuck had the same expectations of them. All of them. And especially this one. This one and his fucking responsibilities – at work and at home.

"And you will always do your job. AND LISTEN," he yelled. "That's the deal."

That was the deal. At home. At work. Both families. It was the fucking deal to be a member of either. You fucking listened when he spoke. And he didn't fucking repeat himself. They were done.

It got a nod. A nod and more glassy eyes.

Hurt Hank. Hurt him as a C.O.. Hurt him as a father. Hurt him as a cop and as a man.

So much more he wanted to say to the kid. Explain to him. His value. To let him know his father loved him even if he hadn't done right as a father. To let him know he was still loved and had a family. He had more than one family. That he had purpose. Had reason to be strong. To be around. Had people who needed him and wanted him. People who'd known for a real long time that they were real lucky to have him on their team. People who'd be hurting real bad if he went and got himself killed for something as fucking stupid as not listening.

"When your head is on straight, we are going to talk about this again," he put to him.

"Alright," was all he got back – after all that. And more staring at the ground. A shift from him giving the blurry-eyed stare off into the distance like that had somehow been acceptable way to look each other in the eyes for these kinds of conversations either.

"Not alright," Hank pressed. "Yes, sergeant."

The eyes came up. Still lost. Still hurt. Likely hurting a whole lot more than before.

"Yes, sergeant," Jay managed.

And Hank just stared at him. Stared and tried to steady himself. Pressed himself to try to keep the fucking personal and professional separate in this fucking dynamic with his fucking kids that made it increasingly impossible. Erin. Jay. Al. And all these other guys who depended on him – who he was supposed to take care of, protect, get home each night. Kim and Adam and Hailey and Kevin and 'Tonio. All these young guys who still had so much life and career and family ahead of them. Situations that weren't going to end up like his story. That weren't going to end up like Al's.

That weren't going to end up like this was so close to ending up as.

Hank sighed and frowned and he reached – bracing himself for the expected slap – as he pressed his thumb into Jay's forehead and tilted his eyes back up to his. The backlash didn't come. Just more of those glassy eyes. Same eyes that were in the sockets of one of his grandkid's now. Looking right at him. Same eyes that he didn't ever just want to be seeing as a single pair at his Sunday dinner table anytime in his lifetime now.

"And, Jay, don't think that we aren't going to be talking about this when we're off the clock," he nodded at him. "At home."

And the guy's eyes just set there. Didn't say a thing. Had told him to shut up anyway.

Hank reached and pulled his phone from his back pocket and held it out at Jay.

"Call your fiancée and kids," he said. "You don't want them finding out about this from anywhere else."

And the guy's eyes flickered some more as the phone settled into his hand. And he sat staring at it a real long second as Hank gave Jay his own real long stare before letting – forcing – himself to move away.

Wasn't going to do this. Not again. Couldn't. None of them could.

He needed to fucking hold it together. He needed Jay to fucking hold it together.

Hoped that wasn't asking too much of any of them.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I will do some other scenes around this and Pat Halstead's death in relation to Erin/Jay conversations and fallouts. Yes, I do think it would have a huge impact on Jay as a new father — especially in this AU as it's been set up. I also fully expect within the TV series it's going to be a trigger point for some PTSD stuff and generally acting out in Halstead. I think it still will big time in this AU, but it'd be slightly different how it'd play out since he still has Erin in his life and since he does have babies at home. But, obviously would drag up a lot of things.**

 **I also feel that this close call might have a large impact on Ethan and might be a bit of a tipping point for him too in how he's trying to cope with everything that's been going on in his life. I might explore that a bit.**

 **That said, it should be noted that I will likely play Pat Halstead's death in terms of timing slightly differently than when it might be occurring in the TV series. I think that episode was technically likely supposed to be set sometime between June-August. I'll likely bring it up to being more around November or December. Not sure how much it really matters.**

 **I may go back and tweak a couple mentions of Pat Halstead but not a lot.**

 **I might at some point reorder the chapters so they are more "chronological" and not jumping around as much. Though, my feeling is that it doesn't really matter since I'm not trying to do a sequential plot here.**

 **I will also say that you shouldn't expect the next posted chapters to be ones that specifically deal with this stuff and the fallout. I think they'll be interesting but I also need to give some thought to them. And I had previously had several ideas and scenes already and generally started. So I'll likely keep picking at them next. But it will just be where things lead me and what I feel like writing at a given time.**

 **Thanks for reading. As always, reviews, feedback and comments are appreciated.**


	25. Back

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Erin stood just outside the bay they had Jay sitting in. Literally sitting in. He hadn't even let himself lay down on the gurney. He'd likely been told to but he still wasn't listening. She got the sense that was the theme of the day.

But she knew him – and she'd been there in her own ways, and with other people in her life … Hank, Justin – to know that Jay wouldn't be in the kind of headspace that he was hearing anything. Or anywhere near thinking straight right now. His thought process would be consumed with other things. Understandably. But it hurt her to know – to speculate – about all the places his head was and where it was going. And to know that so far he hadn't been letting her in. That he'd again tried to plow through this on his own. Because he was too used – taught, groomed – to be left alone. That he felt alone in it.

And Jay had let himself believe that that someone made him independent and made him a man. But Erin also knew it wasn't the man he really was. And she knew that when he wanted to be – he could be part of a team. He could trust his team and lean on his team.

She had heard him say to her before – in one of her holes – that when they were a team – together – he was a better cop. He was a better man and a better person. And she knew it was going to be a process in getting him to realize that again – now. To accept it. And to act on it. To lean on her.

A hospital gown was sitting off behind him and his bareback gave away that he was likely going to be there a while – and that he wasn't doing anything to help speed the process along. So she didn't think he'd be ready to do anything to speed on the process in them – as a family, as a couple – in working through any of this just yet either. His head was still catching up with him. He was still coming down from the day – days.

He didn't know she was there yet. She could tell. His back was to her. Erin had a sinking feeling that might be the body language she'd be getting for a while.

And she just hadn't been prepared to deal with that. Maybe she should've been more prepared. She knew that Pat's heart was an issue. She knew surgeries were happening. But even in all that she hadn't felt like this was imminent. Maybe she should've too. She'd had enough loss in her family – at home and at work – that she knew how fragile life was. The present and the supposed normalcy was. That it could all change in an instant. That people could be gone from your life before you even saw it coming. But she hadn't seen this coming. She hadn't braced herself for it or anticipated it. Not in this way or on these terms.

But these were circumstances that they couldn't have seen coming. They couldn't have prepared themselves for it to happen in quite this way. Maybe they'd both contemplated that Pat's heart would fail. Or that he'd die on the table during surgery. That there'd be some sort of complications during or in the hours or days afterwards. That wasn't exactly what happened. And even if it had been they'd only talked about those circumstances and what-ifs so much. Because Jay hadn't wanted to get into it. Because they were still dealing with Pat Halstead's reaction – or lack there of – to the pregnancy and the babies. Because they were still sorting out the if and when and how Pat might be involved in their lives or the twin' lives. And it'd sort of felt like – in their tunnel vision – that there'd be time to work that out. To figure it out. For Jay to work through his feelings about his dad and his childhood. For her to work through her feelings about … what she saw Jay's upbringing had done to him and for her to balance her protection of him and her kids against … what Jay might want or her kids' right to have … more in their lives.

But that time was gone now. And it was all just … unresolved. And she knew that would make it harder. Harder for Jay to deal with. Harder on him. And it'd spin and change what his thoughts and opinions about so many things were likely going to be now. Because it was all going to be laced regrets and what-ifs.

Erin had thought it would be Bunny who'd send them spinning. Who'd rock the boat and disrupt the progress they'd made. That it'd be her past – and how she dealt with it and all the bad news it brought – that would smack them in the face again. She hadn't been prepared for this.

But she should've known to be. Life with them always seemed to be one step forward and about twenty back. Over and over. Only now – it was different. It had to be. And she wasn't sure Jay had really clued into that quite yet.

Or at least that day. He'd lost sight of it. But there was a lot in front of him clouding his vision right now. So maybe she needed to get in front of it for him. Get in front of him. To help him get in front of this – before this turned into something else. A whole lot of something elses that she knew this could become if they weren't careful. If she was recognizant of where he was at. If she wasn't respectful of it. But also if he wasn't respectful of where he was at too – and the help he needed. And the new responsibilities he had now. This had to be different. This time.

But Erin wasn't mad at him. She was too worried about him to be upset at him in that way. Though, she was a little concerned he was going to work at egging her on to the point they had an argument – right there, in the ED of Med. In front of everyone. Because she was already anticipating in his defensive mechanisms. And his previous history of shutting down and shutting her out. And she knew the sort of things he'd likely throw at her.

Things she'd lost sight of herself previously. Orders she hadn't taken. Revenge she'd gone after. Nadia. Yates. Bunny.

They both knew where that had gotten them. Where it'd gotten her. And what it'd done to their relationship. And what it'd done to her relationship with her family then. To her career.

There was more on the line now. But she could understand – in the moment – you could lose yourself. It was just that neither of them could do that in the same way anymore. They needed to stay grounded. They needed to stay out of situations like this.

Erin exhaled a little and gathered herself and stepped up to the sliding glass door. She pulled it open and he turned slowly to gaze at it.

It was like it took him a long moment to register it was her that was there – not a doctor or nurse checking on him. His eyes looked so tired and sad. She saw the hurt little boy there in them. She could see all the broken pieces that they'd been working together on trying to mend at least a bit for him, going brittle right there in his pupils again.

"Hey …," she offered him with a frown. She wanted to hug him but he didn't look like he wanted the touch quite yet. But at the same time it was like his whole being was screaming for it. His shoulders sagged and slouched.

"I told you you didn't need to come in …," he managed to whisper out.

She gave him a little shrug and moved over closer to him. "Yea, I did," she allowed, catching herself from quipping about not being a very good listener either.

She knew if she said that he'd bristle. That he'd think Hank had talked to her – which he had. But he hadn't. He'd called not long after she'd gotten off the phone with Jay – her mind still reeling. More than it had been in the days leading up to this. They'd hardly had a chance to see the mushroom cloud from Pat dying. The fallout hadn't even come down yet. She supposed this was just part of the fall-out of it. But it almost felt like a second atomic bomb had just been dropped on them. On the family they'd been growing and working on.

So she hadn't really processed – or even heard – anything Hank had said. Jay had said more to her anyway about what happened. Fractured and distant with a smattering of reassurances that he was fine. That they were just making him go to the hospital to get checked out. But he hadn't sounded fine.

Hank's call was brief. It was personal. Not professional. He rarely went into any kind of details with her about the job anymore. She knew he couldn't and he was drawing that line. But it was still another hard adjustment.

So Hank didn't get into what happened. He'd just told her not to worry about Ethan that afternoon. It was likely good he'd thought of that. Because she hadn't. She hadn't registered that it was a day of the week that Ethan usually showed up at their place in the afternoon. And Hank was right, he likely would've been jarred and confused if he'd arrived to her not there. Or no one there. That he was going to be jarred and confused if – when – he got any kind of wind of what happened in the news. If he put the pieces together about what had really happened. But Hank was going to handle that not. That he was going to grab Ethan at Iggy's and run interference. But that he couldn't come and watch the twins for her because he had a bunch of mopping up to do.

That's about all she'd taken from the conversation.

"Who's with the babies?" Jay asked.

"Olive," Erin allowed and set the bag she'd brought on the mattress next to him. He was giving her a look – at Olive babysitting. But she shook her head at him. "Don't," she said.

As much as they butted heads with Olive – as much as they were different people with some different takes on parenting – Olive was family too. And Erin knew that in a lot of ways she'd just kind of made Olive her scapegoat in dealing with her own insecurities about herself as a mother and as a parent. It wasn't Olive – as much as Olive could be … Olive. Erin knew she was only trying to help and be family. That Olive was still trying to find her place in the family and still trying to be a member of it. And dealing with her own insecurities in that. It just meant that sometimes they both rubbed each other the wrong way – especially when they added in Justin and the history and baggage they both had there in so different ways. It was just complicated. But that was family.

At least Olive showed up. She stepped up.

And she'd pretty much raised Henry on her own. Justin had only been so much help – and so involved – with the hours and regiments he had to keep on base. Olive could manage the twins for a couple hours. More if they needed her too. Erin wasn't worried about it. And it wasn't the time or place for them to vent their frustrations or pet peeves about their different personalities or approaches.

"It's going to be a while," Jay mumbled.

Erin nodded and nudged as the bag, as she rounded to take an actual look at him. The bruising that was already a nasty mix of black, blue and dark maroon. A dressing that looked like it was probably going to need to be at least checked – if not changed – before he was released. Blood was already soaking through it in a growing dot – if they had put in stitches already.

It looked painful. She knew Jay would downplay any pain it was causing. Or he'd suck it up. He'd claimed he'd experienced worse and had more expected of him and less care offered to him. And he'd likely not-so-secretly be believing that he deserved it. That it was some kind of penance.

At least she knew seeing it that he'd likely be off roster for a day or two. Mandatory. For Med to finish with him and than the Force doctor to look at him and sign-off on when he would be ready to go back to work – full-duty. That there'd be a mandatory therapy appointment in there too, and if Jay hadn't put in his request for leave after the loss of a parent, then Erin was sure that the company shrink would be tacking on some extra days for him before he was back on shift too.

He'd be home a few days. They could try to work through some of this. Though, it wasn't realistic that they'd work through much. That they'd even scratch the surface. He'd fight against that. And, she knew too that most of the time would be filled with funeral planning and the service and wake. And Jay getting into too much – about everything and nothing – with Will.

"A change of clothes," she provided.

He stared at the bag. "I don't think I'll need it for a while," he mumbled and then looked at her – finally. "They're sending me for a CT."

"It looks like that's smart," she said and have a nod at his chest and abdomen. She wasn't a doctor but knew enough about human anatomy to see that the bruising was right at his spleen and that the through-and-through he'd taken looked like it'd been pretty close to hitting a whole lot of something. As much as she was for toughing things out too, she wasn't exactly in a place where she was willing to gamble that way anymore. She needed him around. And on his feet. And well. The twins did.

"Everyone's making a bigger deal out of this than they need to," he muttered.

"I don't think so," she said and reached for the gown.

"I'm fine," he countered.

She shook her head. "No, you aren't, Jay."

He just stared at her again. Those sad, broken eyes. And Erin put the gown on his lap.

"How about you put it on," she said. "Maybe looking like you're ready to co-operate will make them more willing to get you to the front of the line."

He touched it but still didn't lift it.

"Did you talk to Hank?" he asked and cast her a look.

Erin shrugged. "Yea. But not really."

His finger kept flicking at the stray tie on the gown. Erin reached and gave his hand a squeeze and his eyes met hers.

"He lit into me," he allowed.

"Been there," Erin said.

He shook his head ever so slightly and stared off again at the heart and blood pressure monitor screens. They looked – sounded – normal to her but she wondered how worried she should be about them having them attached to him versus them just following procedure.

"I couldn't tell … if … It felt personal. Not just professional. What he was saying …"

"My experience," Erin said, squeezing his hand again. "It was likely a bit of both."

His eyes moved to hers. "It's not like everyone else hasn't …," he pressed at her with a small edge. He was trying to put on tone and defiance – but it wasn't coming out as firmly as he likely wanted. "Like Voight hasn't. Like you—"

She squeezed his hand harder. "Jay," she stopped him with the firmness he was likely trying to find in his voice. "Don't. Right now - this is about you. Not me. And not Hank. We can compare dance cards and remind each other just where all that got any of us later. Not here."

"Erin," his head just kept shaking. "I just couldn't stop myself."

She sat down next to him and continued to hold at his hand. "I know," she acknowledged. And now he had to live with that. They all did. "But, you can't, Jay. We can't. Not anymore." She sighed and looked at him. "We both know the risks of the job. But this wasn't that, Jay. You should've … taken your three days. Bereavement."

His eyes stared straight ahead again. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be mourning."

"Your childhood," she suggested.

"I lost that a long time ago," he muttered.

"But you haven't dealt with that yet," Erin said.

He still just kept looking at that wall. "He accused me of just being there to try to get 'all his money' again."

"What money …" Erin muttered.

Jay shook his head. "I told him to fuck off. That's our last conversation. The last thing I said to him."

She squeezed his hand again. She wanted to say that at least he could remember his last conversation with him. That maybe he got to say something he'd wanted to say for a long time. That maybe that'd count for something – eventually. If he let himself deal with this. If he let himself talk about it. If he let her in.

But his eyes rotated to stare at her. "He never met them," he rattled and it gleaned in his eyes. And she squeezed his hand harder, her own eyes glassing.

"I know …," she acknowledged. And she knew that was going to eat at him. That as much as he'd been resistant to including his dad in their lives – as much as she was in agreement with him on that at the moment – she knew that was going to haunt him. That it was going to be a defining aspect of how he'd process and cope with this. The questioning and blame and reflection it'd bring.

"He never wanted to meet them," he said. "Even that – I couldn't do that in the right way for him. In a way he respected or was proud of. He didn't want to meet – hold – his own grandkids. My kids."

"That was his choice," she offered.

He looked at her. "Was it?"

"Jay …," she sighed at him.

But his eyes just watered more and he looked away – back to that wall.

She let go of his hand and reached for the bag she'd brought, unzipping it and retrieving a framed picture of Eli and Mattie. Their smiling, happy babies. These little people who were fighting their own battles. Who they were trying to give better to than they had. Trying to do better for than what their parents had done for them.

And she set it in his lap. His eyes going down to look at it. And glassing more.

"Your debate about if you should have this at work," she said and found his hand again. "You should have it at work. And the next time you just can't stop yourself – make yourself stop long enough to think of them, Jay."

His breathing felt shaky even though to where his hand was gripping at hers.

"We both know what not having a dad who's there for you growing up does," she said. "They want you – need you – around."

"I know …," he rattled out.

And she squeezed his hand again. "They need you present and healthy too, Jay," she pressed and found his eyes. "You don't need to go into that hole with your dad, Jay. That's not what you deserve. And, if you think you're slipping in – I need you to talk to me. You aren't alone. And you can't act like you are. And, if you won't do that for yourself. And you can't do that for me – for us. Then I really need you to do that for them," she said and looked at the picture too.

They both did. And she squeezed his hand harder.

"You're loved, Jay," she allowed quietly. "You're wanted. And you're needed – at a lot of people. You've still got a family. That hasn't changed."

And he didn't say anything. But a tear did fall and splatter against the glass.


	26. Let Up

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Hank glanced up from punching at the keys on the computer keyboard – the fucking never-ending pit of paperwork and forms and reports the job had become. Had heard – felt – a stir over on the couch across from him and took another second to do a check-in on his passed out son. Kid wasn't so passed out now. Looked like he was finally starting to wake – to show a bit of life.

Had pretty much felt his blood pressure go up several heart-unhealthy notches when they'd rolled back in that afternoon and Trudy had grabbed him before he could beeline for the stairs. Avoid any kind of chit-chat – that she usually let him avoid. Knew the routine.

But not that day. Got told that Magoo had shown up in a state. That he was up in his office. That she'd got him cleaned up as best she could – and as discretely as she could. And that Ignatius kept on calling. Calling the District line and not his cell. Mixed bag on what could mean. Though getting up to find E passed out on his couch – in joggers that whose ever's locker Trudy had scrounged them from were still way too big on him – had filled in enough blanks. Igantius hadn't filled in many more despite him ripping some. They'd just been calling to let him know E was truant. Thought it was pretty clear this wasn't exactly a truancy. Not that Ignatius gave much of a shit. Seemed to be the way this went lately.

E crunched up a bit on the couch and then stretched some. His eyes flickering and slanting against the dim light Hank had left on in there. Pretty much just the computer screen and the lamp behind his desk at this point. Some light come in the windows – from the street and the bullpen. Burgess was still out there too. Klick-klacking on her own computer. Girl – woman – never seemed to head home much lately. Got the sense that it had less to do with her doing some penance and amends after earlier blunders and in the lead-up to trying for her detective rank and placement than it did with her not really wanting to deal with outside life in the civilian world much anymore in her off-hours. Wasn't too sure what to say to her about that. Actually thought that she should talk to Erin about all that. Maybe getting to the point that he'd be directing Erin himself to give Kim a call. Do both of them a favor. All three of them. Maybe Burgess and Erin could both help each other get their heads on straight about personal life versus career and the balance and maneuvering of all that in the current state of the force and society. Likely get more from each other than him spouting cop talk at them as an old, white man.

His kid squinted at him a bit. Looked a little disoriented. But considering the way the kid had been curled there hardly moving – breathing so faintly he'd had to get in real close to make sure E was even still breathing over there earlier in the day – Hank knew the kid must've popped one of his pain meds. Wouldn't be surprised if he'd taken the CBD oil too. Wasn't supposed to be carrying that on him – especially at school. But it usually did a real good job at knocking E out even more than some of the other chemical bullshit they had on prescription to pump into his system. Kid might've slept some of it off. But seemed any and all of these fucking drugs came with a good hangover. It'd take him a bit to get his feet back on the ground and head spun as straight as it ever was for E anymore.

Ethan rubbed his face against the cushion several times. His hands pawing at his eyes like there really was too much light in there and he just wanted to shut them again. "What time is it?" he mumbled.

Hank pushed the keyboard away and adjusted his positioning – giving his son his full attention. "About time to head home for lights out," he said.

That got another moan out of E and his face rubbed into the cushion some more. Truth was Hank was doing some internal groaning himself. Knew that the extended afternoon nap was going to screw up E's whole routine and schedule. His medication time was already out-of-whack for his evening and night-time doses. Knew that his fifteen-year-old wouldn't be too happy about getting taken home, fed, injected and then ordered up to bed for lights-out. Might listen but wasn't entirely likely that E would be out for the count again or sleep all the way through the night. Meant that the next day would be a mess too. And that'd cascade into several days of getting him and his body back on schedule. And all the arguments and head-butting that went with it when trying to negotiate that with a teenager and getting him to understand, accept and agree to his limitations in his condition.

Knew he could've woken E up and saved himself some of the headaches. But then it would've just been another set of headaches. Reality just was that E's body only co-operated so much anymore. There were a whole lot of days where he just hit a wall and he just had to let his kid rest or else they'd be in a bigger mess than a fucked up medication and sleep schedule. And, if he'd woken the kid up anyway, he would've had to go into parenting mode. Would've been other kinds of arguments and conflicts – and the headaches of getting E sorted for the afternoon. Didn't have time to deal with that that afternoon. Was on the job. Had work to do. If the kid wanted to sleep on the couch – let him.

"Called your neurologist," Hank provided and gave E a little nod. "They're fitting you in. Day after tomorrow."

That got the kid to wake up some. Got a real unimpressed squint from over on that couch.

"Why?" got demanded of him. Real tone to it.

He gave the kid a smack and rocked back in his chair a bit. Gave a cursory glance out the door. Burgess had likely registered that he was talking. That the kid was up. Hadn't been a secret that E was passed out in there all afternoon. Thankfully hadn't had anyone from the Ivory Tower decide they were going to drop in and want to command his office space – and way he did his job. But also just wasn't a secret his kid was sick. Wasn't anything overly personal Kim might overhear. Unless she wanted a glimpse of how his kids actually talked to him. Though, figured she'd already more than had glimpses of that with Erin on the job and spending years pushing boundaries and blurring lines of personal and professional when it came to their interactions and relationship on the job. Didn't look like Kim gave much of a shit that he was talking now anyway. Or at least had gotten a lot better at covering up the way those ears of hers perked up.

"Because we've crossed our agreed on line, Magoo," he nodded at him again. And the E worked at pressing himself upward at that. Could see there was some weakness and unco-ordination going on. Wasn't a smooth motion in getting himself upright. Some fumbling and struggling. So Hank just nodded at him more directly and held up his fingers to list off the pre-established criteria on when it was non-negotiable about heading in to get him checked out – not matter how after out it was from his biannual follow-ups or monthly treatments. "Can't see. Can't pee. Can't climb a tree."

And the kid had got himself sitting up at that point. And had woken up all the way. Eyes wide open. And apparently feeling well enough that he was willing to put up a fight about this.

"I can pee," he spat.

"Mmm …," Hank acknowledged and gestured over at the office radiator that was doing as little to take the chill out of the office as it likely was to dry out the school pants Hank he spotted tossed in the john's trash can. Had to stand at the sink like an old country washer lady rinsing and wringing the things out. Good look when Ruzek had come in and done a bit of a double-take at him but had managed to keep his mouth buttoned about what was going on. "Noticed."

E's eyes rotated a bit and some embarrassment flashed on his face.

Hank scrubbed at his own face. "Pissing yourself isn't in the realm of being able to take a proper leak," he provided his son. "Been a while since you've had this kind of problem. Last time you had new lesions in your spine, Magoo."

"It's not that," Ethan pressed at him. "It's just …" he sighed and looked away. "The whole fucking school's set up to fuck me over."

"Want to watch the language," Hank smacked at him.

E gave him a look. "It's just everything," he said and gestured at himself. "Tuck in your shirt, belts, dress pants, zippers. It's too many fucking layers, Dad. When I'm tremoring. When …" he trailed off. "You know sometimes my brain doesn't talk right to that stuff. And then when my hands aren't working. I just … I didn't have time. And the stupid uniform …"

Hank watched him. Could see the embarrassment and shame seeping off him. "Then you tell me that," Hank said. "I talk to the school. Caruso. See if we can get an accommodation on at least the pant and belt situation. You don't go throwing your school pants in the trash, Ethan. I know you're embarrassed, but these things cost a wad of cash."

His boy just looked away. Hank rubbed at his face again.

Parenting Magoo these days just felt like navigating a minefield. More-so than with his other too. Lately, though, he just felt like he couldn't get a handle on what E needed from him. Kid was back and forth and all over the place. Kid, teen, young adult. All these emotions in him. A whole lot of anger. And just – a fucked up view of his future. Or lack there of. Sometimes Hank just didn't know what to say to him anymore. The life's not fair speech didn't seem right – or fair – or even accurate with this kid. And tough love just didn't work either.

"Nursing station has a change of clothes for you," Hank provided. "You're supposed to keep an emergency change-out in your bag."

Kid just started at him.

"Want to explain to me why you ended up all the way over here?"

E made another little sound and twisted his head to stare out the window. "Because some of them saw it happen," he mumbled. "And they were following me and saying all kinds of shit and I just didn't want to listen to it the rest of the day. For everyone to know. So I tried to get away from them and they kept following me. So I went outside and they kept following me and yelling shit at me. So I didn't want them to know where I live too. And I knew they wouldn't follow me in here and that maybe they'd shut up about it if they thought I went to the cops. But then Trudy was at the desk so I couldn't leave after they left."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed.

Not that he thought living the school property would help reduce the collective memory of a bunch of sophomores idiots. The kids thinking that he was running to the cops like a snitch wasn't likely going to help his case any either. But the whole bullying and discrimination and some of the rather thinly veiled racism that went on at Ignatius, he was almost surprised that more shit didn't come up every year with families going to the cops to try to get some help with something. Thing was the police usually had a whole lot bigger fish to fry than dealing with "bullying" and petty vandalism, theft, harassment and assault charges in any way more substantial than sending some lowly patrol or communications officer to do a presentation at the school that never accomplished much of anything with the real semantic problems going on in that mind of mindset of kids especially when fucking internet and social media got involved and it wasn't as simple as a kid getting roughed up in the playground anymore, where there might be some physical grounds for assault charges. And the other problem was that it always seemed to be the lower income kids and diversity and inclusion kids that were on the receiving end of this crap. Subsidy kids, scholarship kids, bursary kids. Families that were so thrilled their kids had this "chance" at this "elite" legacy school that they weren't going to rock the boat.

Supposed he didn't mind rocking the boat. He was pretty fucking sick of it all – after three kids going through this bullshit. And his youngest taking a ridiculous fucking brunt of it in a fucking landscape of teen-life that he couldn't fully wrap his head around anymore. But after fucking years of dealing with E's situation at Ignatius, he was getting pretty resigned to the fact that it didn't matter how much he screamed and stomped his foot, dropped threats or pulled his badge – it didn't fix much of anything over there. The problems weren't just in the kids. There were a whole lot of problems in that administration and the board – and the fucking parents who sat on it. The money that financed that school. The kind of people they were.

"So it's only one thing," E muttered at him, though. "So I don't need to see the neuro."

"Ethan," Hank shook his head at him.

"I don't," he protested.

Hank caught his eyes. "Ethan, I can tell you aren't seeing right."

"I am," he tried again.

Hank kept his eyes. "Haven't seen you play videogames for ages."

He shrugged. "I'm bored of my games."

Hank grunted. Wasn't buying that. "Haven't been wanting to get out back and into the shed to get our woodworking projects wrapped up for the holidays."

Another shrug. "I'm tremoring. You don't like me using the equipment on tremor days."

Hank shook his head at him. "Know I go through your schoolwork every night, Magoo. Can tell in that too. You aren't seeing the board. Aren't taking notes."

"The teachers give handouts and printouts to my EA for me. And all the slides go up in the portal anyway."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed. "And what spin you got for me about what's going on with your legs?"

E shrugged. "They're fine too."

Hank sat back in his chair. "You know I'm your father, right? That I've spent a whole lot of years looking at you. That I've been sitting next to you through all this, Ethan. I know your body language. I can see when you're hurting. And I can look you in the eye and see they aren't working too."

Could see it right now. Glassy and dilated. The one dropped slightly. Hadn't quite opened up the way it should. That wasn't just the medication. That was the fucking disease working on eating through his nervous system some more.

"They are gonna admit me if you make me go in," Ethan spat at him. "And then they will do steroids. I hate the steroids. They are worse than just dealing!"

Hank shook his head. "Didn't say anything about admitting you. Or steroids. He said they'd fit you in for a follow-up to assess where things are at."

"And then he'll say steroids," Ethan hissed.

"Ethan," he pressed back. "He knows your stance on the steroids. Everyone understands we're looking at it as last resort. Right now he just wants to take a look at you."

"So that means MRI or another lumbar puncture," Ethan grumbled.

Hank shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe it will just be some blood work. Maybe he'll offer up scrubbing out your plasma an extra time this month. Maybe we're at the point we need to add the IgIV back into the mix. We're not going to know until we get our asses in there."

Ethan just shook his head.

But Hank only shrugged again. "This isn't actually a conversation, Magoo. It was just a head's up."

It got a glare. Hank scrubbed his face again.

"Ethan, you understand you've got to be taking care of yourself," he nodded.

The kid shrugged. "Why?"

"Because it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to be living in pain."

Ethan looked at him. "Making me go to the hospital isn't gonna change that."

"Ethan," Hank smacked at him. "You've got to be talking about this. Owning up to when you're struggling. So we can try to get a better handle on all this. To make it easier on you. That's part of our deal here too."

"Who am I supposed to talk 'bout any of it?" the kid spat at him.

"Me," he nodded at him. "Your sister."

"Right," he muttered. "'Cuz you all care so much."

Hank cocked his head at that. "Meaning?"

His kid's eyes glared at him. "Erin and Jay hardly talk to me."

"They've got a lot on their plate. Two babies at home, Ethan," he smacked.

"Right," he allowed. "So I hardly know who Erin is anymore. And Jay basically doesn't know I exist."

"Your sister is trying to figure out her new roles and responsibilities. And Jay's working through some things in his family life while dealing starting his own family."

"You mean he's fucked up about and not talking to anyone about his dad that he never talked to anyways dying," E mumbled.

Hank stared at him. "Know how you and Justin had unresolved stuff? And that made you dealing with him being gone pretty hard? That's what Jay's going through. Only not his brother – his father. While he's figuring out the kind of father he is. That's not easy, Ethan. And it means you cut him some slack. He's one guy with two hands and two feet. He can only be juggling so many things in so many places at once. He's got at least three other people up on his personal life priority list before you come into the picture, Magoo."

"Yea," E hissed at him and glared. "And what's your excuse?"

And he smacked again. "Go ahead and say what's on your mind."

"OK," Ethan tried to lash out at him. It was angry. But it wasn't anywhere near forceful. "Whenever you're off Saturday mornin' now you spend it with Henry. And any Sunday you're off you're wanting Erin and the babies to come over for dinner or us to go over there."

"That mean you've got a problem with me spending time with my grandkids or that you don't want to be seeing your niece and nephews," Hank smacked at him.

"It means I never get you. Ever. Anymore," Ethan spat at him. "I don't see you. We don't talk. Or do anything. Ever."

"Ethan," he nodded at him. "I go way out of my way to make time for you every day."

"Only to rag all over me about homework and school and Iggy's crap."

"Because that's my job – as your father," he said. "And your job as a kid is to doing the schoolwork. And to be in a position you're well enough to be doing that job – well."

"When it doesn't even matter," Ethan muttered.

Hank just smacked at him. They weren't going to do this argument again. He wasn't going to get into yet another conversation of Ethan talking about and speculating about the if and when and how he'd die. And how that meant that everything and anything and absolutely nothing mattered. Wasn't going to do it. Not when the kid was in this kind of headspace. It just upset them both.

"Happy to spend time with you, E," he said instead. "Tell me the where, what, when. But near any time offer up the opportunity to do something, you opt out. And most nights you seem set on doing your best not to look at me."

"'Cuz you're set on comin' home as late as you can. You just work now. All the time."

"Paycheck has to come from somewhere," Hank graveled.

"For you to spend on booze and cigarettes? And then eat your gun?" Ethan spat hard.

Hank stared at him for a long beat. The kid was nearly shaking with it. And Hank felt something inside himself shake too.

"I saw you," E said more quietly, staring at him hard and shaking harder.

Hank smacked and processed and then pulled himself up. He went and closed the office door. Burgess did catch his eyes and he was sure she'd heard. She looked away quickly.

He sat himself on the couch next to the kid but E shuffled as close to the armrest on the opposite side as he could.

"What you want me to say to that," he put to E.

His son wasn't looking at him. "Whatever you say isn't going to be true. And I saw you."

Hank scrubbed at his face. He knew what his son had seen. Little surprised. And upset. Apparently kid's eyes could work a bit better than he would've preferred them to. At least that night. And it'd been months' ago. And apparently perfectly fucked timing on E's part. For him to be looking out the window. In the middle of the night. When he should've been asleep. But was likely waiting up for him. There'd been a spat of nights like that after Al. Before he'd pulled himself together.

But that didn't matter. His boy shouldn't have seen it. Just like he shouldn't have done it. But thing was Hank hadn't done it.

He hadn't even come close to doing it. It wasn't a route he could take. Or would take. He wasn't that kind of man.

He'd just been hurting. So fucking much. Still was. He'd been dealing with a whole lot of guilt. He still was there too. Always would. Knew that.

But he'd barely turned the barrel on himself and stared it down before he dropped it away.

These days he didn't know if putting the gun down and crying drunk against the steering wheel in front of the house made him the bigger coward than if he'd had the will to actually put the thing in his mouth and pull the trigger. But he couldn't pull the trigger. Couldn't to that to Al for all he'd sacrificed for him. Couldn't do that to his son. Or his daughter. To his grandkids. It wasn't an out he was allowed.

"If you saw me and you see me sitting right here, you know that the truth is that I smartened up," he said and put his hand on his son's back.

"No you haven't," E said and slouched away from him. "All of you are all fucked up and trying to figure out ways to basically die or get yourselves killed faster."

"Ethan …," Hank sighed and rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face again. And then he stared at him. E just fidgeting and shaking. "Son, I don't know how to explain any of this to you. Or talk about it to you."

"And you think I'm supposed to talk to any of you about anything," he hissed in a way that sounded more like a whimper.

Hank reached to put his hand on the boy's knee but he huddled into the arm rest again.

"You shouldn't have seen that," he said. "You shouldn't have had to see it. I'm real upset with myself that you did. I'm real upset with myself that it happened. And, whether you want to believe it or not – I am telling you, promising you, what you saw was a one time thing. Split second."

"Split second is all you need," E whispered. "And then you can't just act like any of you fucking care how I feel about anything or care if I hurry up and die before you all."

"Ethan, there's a whole lot of people who care about your health," he said. "Care about you. And, I'm sorry if you feel like people aren't being attentive enough to that. Your sister and Jay just have their hands full. And I've been trying to be respectful of the boundaries we established about what you want in all this. But I worry and hurt every fucking day that you're going through this. I try to express that and show you that the best I can without smothering you and trying to let you life your own life the way you want."

"I'd rather hurry up and die before you all."

Hank shook his head and moved closer to Ethan. "That's not how any of us want this to go. And it really, really upsets me when you say shit like that. I don't – and I can't – take that kind of talk lightly."

"Right," Ethan muttered. "So you can all run into bullets and try to swallow your own bullets and kill other people and go to jail. Or whatever it is that all you do. And leave me alone. But I'm not allowed to say it like it is about the way it is."

"Ethan," Hank stressed again. "You being in this much pain – and this sick – is not the way it needs to be. And if you're thinking that it is – than when we're in at the doc's we need to have another chat and reassessment about your treatments and what we're willing to try. Because this kind of talk makes me really think what we're doing right now isn't working for any of us."

"So just it and make it 'better' so I can stick around and still be alone. 'Cuz you're all so fucked up now without my stuff. You're all too fucked up to even care about my stuff. It's like none of it even matters anymore. Not to any of you. And not even to me."

"Ethan," Hank pressed. "It matters to everyone a whole lot. Everyone is just going through a whole lot of adjustments and dealing with a whole lot of stuff right now."

"Yea," he muttered. "Just like always."

"We're all trying the best we can to get everyone sorted," he said. "It was just … it was a loss, Ethan. A big blow. Losing your Uncle Al has just been rough for me to wrap my head around."

"And like I haven't had losses," Ethan muttered.

Hank put his hand on the boy's back and looked at him. "E, I'm very aware of how much you've lost out on in your life. And, it tears me a part. It breaks my heart every fucking day, Magoo. But it's why I do bust my ass every day to try to give you something that resembles a childhood and to set you up for all the opportunities we can manage for your life."

"You aren't doing a very good job," Ethan said. "Likely just like you aren't so good at your job since everyone keeps on dying."

Hank scrunched at the back of his son's shirt and looked at him. "Yea, Ethan. There's a whole lot of days I feel about that way about it all too. But it does mean I keep holding onto you real tight. Even when you're spouting this kind of hateful, angry bullshit at me. I respect that you got a whole lot of reason to be real angry and hurting a whole lot."

Ethan just sat there shaking until he finally muttered, "I'm not going to the neurologist."

And Hank gazed at him. "Yes. You are." And he moved right next to him, wrapping his arm around him and putting his mouth against the crown of his head. "Because I love you. And you're the reason I'm not letting go. Need you to remember that."

And Ethan shook his head. But Hank just nodded his against the top of the kid's and held him a bit tighter.

"Gonna figure it out, Magoo," he rasped into his hair. "And get it sorted. Don't need to worry about that. Not your responsibility to be taking care of all of us. We've got you. Promise you that."

And the kid just kept shaking his head and trembling in his grasp. So Hank just kept holding him. Just about felt like he was – or wanted to – doing the same thing.

Kept waiting for it to let up. Kept waiting for it to get easier. Just fucking didn't.

 **AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **SO I've got a bunch of chapters/scenes I'm working on:**

 **Ethan/Caroline — about his family life and school and relation**

 **Hank/Meredith — about Al**

 **Jay/Erin (and the babies) — dealing with fall-out of Pat's death**

 **Erin/Olive (and the babies/Henry) — dealing with Christmas and family dynamics in the fall-out of Pat's death**

 **Erin/Kim — dealing with Erin's work/career situation and Kim's status in the unit/detective run**

 **Jay/Ethan (and one of the babies, likely EJ) — set on Thanksgiving weekend, dealing with a lot of stuff around family dynamics**

 **Jay/Bunny — fall-out from Bunny back**

 **Hank/Ethan — talking about relationships and some reference to Camille**

 **Hank/Caroline (and some Ethan) — dealing with Ethan's health and some relationship and family stuff**

 **Possible "flashback" chapter to Hank/Bunny run-in at the pharmacy and Jay/Erin with him calling to tell her about Pat being in the hospital on life support (and already struggling with that, and if she should bring in the twins)**

 **Jay/Erin — talking about Bunny**

 **Ethan/Erin — talking about Hank**

 **Hank/Ethan — talking about his education and options**

 **Not sure on the when or the order any of these will be written.**


	27. Balls

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Hank looked up from his book as the creaks in the hallway lead up to the master bed room rather than the john and the crack he'd left the door open got pushed open a bit more. His boy – the one who'd been doing his best to muster all his strength and put all his energy resources into doling out the attitude – peeked in at him. Right now the teenager act was gone. Just his kid at the door. Tired and washed out. Sad.

E didn't say anything to him. And Hank didn't say anything back. Just shared a gaze and the door pushed open more.

E hobbled in. No braces, no crutches. Just fighting against his unco-operative legs and his weakened muscles to tense himself up enough to get over to the bed. Kid flopped into it more than crawled. And Hank just pulled back the blankets and waited as the boy flopped against him too. Kid's head landing somewhere between his shoulder and heart. His cold skin and frail body pressing against his side, as E settled against his chest and Hank just wrapped the blanket back around him – and then his arm. Held him. Skin-to-skin.

Had restrained himself earlier when he was flicking E's lights out in the kid's bedroom. Give him a little lecture about keeping warm and managing his core temperature. Tell E he was getting stupid on him just getting into bed with his sleep pants and not pulling on a thermal or hoodie.

Knew the kid's logic anywhere. The plaster on his back from the lumbar puncture. E got all squirreled about material sticking to it and catching. Tugging and pulling at it when he moved. Kid convinced himself every time they went through one of these things that he was going to end up with a rupture and a fluid leakage. Didn't blame him for not wanting to deal with that nightmare. So just left it. Hope the kid stayed warm enough through the night.

Clearly wasn't exactly. His whole chest and arms felt chilled as E cuddled into his body.

It was funny when E came at him for this kind of comfort and affection anymore, Hank was starting to realize how much of it was likely learned, in grained behavior that'd been imprinted on the kid from about the day he was born. The positioning E took. The way he still always rested his ear more of his heart than just going in for that loose, short, pat on the back hug that his older son only ever barely tolerated from about fourteen on.

Not E. But E was dealing with different challenges.

And looking at Erin and Jay now with those babies – he'd realized that E stll had some kind of subconscious need for some kangaroo care on some of these days. Medical appointment days. Health days. Just a sick kid days. Never-ending days.

Been part of the kid for longer than that, though. They'd always said when he was a little guy that he was Camille's 'cuddle monster'. Maybe some of it had less to do with just little guys and their moms and some more to do with those early days in his life. Wondered if Erin and Jay might end up with some cuddle monsters of their own too.

Thought Erin had moved past some of the kangaroo care with the kiddos at this point. But knew Jay was still doing it. Especially with their little guy. But got it. EJ was a whole lot sicker than their Tilly girl. He still had a ways to go in catching up and getting on track when Mattie was already just go-go-go. She was going to be all kinds of trouble and a bit of a heart-breaker for her parents. Was sure of it.

So Hank got it. Knew that the mom at home with the kids was able to let go of the kangaroo a bit sooner when she was the one having to hold them and feed them and change them and rock them and sooth them for eight to sixteen hours – or more – while you were on the job. Getting lots and lots of contact with them in all kinds of ways. Knew he'd been there. Knew you got home some days – after days – and just almost wanted to make sure your kids still recognized you. Erin might be insecure about EJ seeming like he might be a bit of a Daddy's Boy. But Hank knew that Jay was the kind of man – cop, father – that he'd be having his own insecurities that he wasn't being there for his kids the right way. Wasn't seeing them enough or connecting with them enough or doing enough with them for them to know him.

Knew all that would be worse right now. Knew the guy would be working through a lot. Could see it in him too. At work. At home. In their own interactions – and not just Hank's observed interactions between Jay and his kids. Jay and Erin. A lot to work through. There'd be a whole lot of feelings there.

Fathers and sons. Family. It's complicated. Too much history. Always too much hurt and guilty. And about two too many egos involved. Throw in some Alpha male, machoism with some traditional values when it came to gender roles and family – and how you talked, acted, and emoted – and it just fucked things up more. Knew it had with him and Justin. Fuck, knew it had with most people he knew his age and their fathers. Seemed to just be an ongoing theme of life and male dynamics.

Sometimes he thought it'd be different with him and Magoo. And then there were days where he just didn't fucking know. Sure, Ethan would have a whole checklist of things he did wrong and what he thought he'd do different or better if he ever got the chance too. But sure fucking hoped that he was doing a better job at expressing to E that he loved him and that he was proud of him. Even on the days the kid fucking pissed him off.

So Hank got it. Knew he'd come home too and would sit with Magoo on his chest well past those first twelve weeks or so of his life. Knew there'd definitely been times he'd done the whole kangaroo thing – chest-to-chest, skin-to-skin. There were pictures. He'd come across them again recently. With the babies being born. With going through some more things and boxes and photo albums (and shoeboxes of photos that hadn't even ended up in albums and rolls of them that had never gotten developed likely due to cash flow situations that he just starting to get developed now with Olive's new-found interest – and resources – in photography). Seeking out things – items, pictures, toys, books, memories – that Erin and Olive had specifically asked for. And seeking out some things on his own that he wanted to remember. Or that he wanted to pass on to his daughter and daughter-in-law. To his grandkids. Give them a piece of Camille and their family.

Come across more than a few of him and Magoo that Cami had snapped. Shirt open and E just passed out there. You forget how small they are. You think you know but when you see the photos – see how big you hand is against their back, how tiny they are on your chest – you realize you don't quite remember. Holding his preemie gandbabies reminded him – and boggled – him in the same way. Boggled him more when he saw pictures of J as a baby. That boy of his in his arms. And his mom's. Looking back on those pictures that Justin had sent of Henry in his first days and weeks – other ones that got snapped when him and E had gotten down to see the baby – and realizing just how small the twins, and Ethan had been, compared to 'average' sized babies like Justin and Henry. Little. Delicate.

Had seen Jay still scoop up EJ and do the kangaroo care with him lately. Sunday over there. Or them over here. And that kid would just fuss if he hadn't seen his dad for a while and all of a sudden he could hear him or see him in the room. Sense him. Sometimes that kid would just fuss. Hank had some of his own theories and thoughts about what all the fussing was about – pain, frustration, not keeping up with his sister, wanting to be able to do more, and not being able to get his legs and other muscles to co-operate quite the way he wanted – but he kept most of that to himself. And sometimes – a whole lot of times, it seemed – after EJ decided he was fussing, didn't matter who was holding him or what you were trying you were pretty much in for until he wailed himself to exhaustion or his dad got back home. He was giving him mom a bit of a complex about it, that was for sure. And testing her patience.

Jay, though, barely had to pick him up and he quieted right down. Undo his shirt and hold him there and he'd have that kid's eyes getting heavy – soother or bottle in his mouth and finally accepted – and asleep in no time. And Jay would just sit there. Couch in their living room or the front room downstairs and that kid would be out. And Jay would likely being a whole lot more a dad – a daddy – than he gave himself credit for a let himself realize in those moments.

Sometimes that's really all your kids needed. For you to just be there for them. And them knowing you were there – showing up and being in their corner – it was enough to get them settle. To get them ready for the next round of bullshit. For them to realize they could face it and work through it. That you still had their back – even after all the screaming and wailing and patience-testing.

And knew that was some of what Jay was working through these days too. Knew that part of him still picking up his kids and putting them in that kangaroo skin-to-skin was less about him still thinking the babies needed that and a whole lot about Jay working on figuring out what kind of father he was. Or him proving to himself what kind of father he wasn't. Not his father. That his relationship – specifically with his son – was going to be different than what he'd had with his father.

And Hank supposed he knew that feeling too. Different between him and his dad. But still complicated. And sure knew that he'd had Justin throw the "my son" at him with that tone more than enough that his son was making very clear that he wasn't going to raise Henry the way he'd been raised and that he was bound-and-determined that his relationship with H was going to be different than what they'd had. And Hank supposed it was now. Though, not the way Justin had wanted. And hard and complicated and more than a little confusing for all of them too now with him playing a bigger role in helping raise his grandson than J likely would've wanted. And Hank trying to figure out how Justin would've wanted the boy raised and what things he would've done different. But at least he knew his relationship with Henry would be different than what he had with Justin. He was different and he was approaching it differently. Had to. Different person. Different role.

Just like he was working at being a different kind of parent – different kind of dad – form a different kind of relationship with Magoo. Out of want and necessity. One where his fifteen-year-old could still come in here for some affection and comfort after a shitty day even though they'd both been butting heads and lock horns the past few days. Testing each other's patience. But at least could strip that away – and set it aside – when his son just needed to be a kid and just needed him to still be his father. And was still willing to let him do that more times than not – even if the other times he put up a bit of a fight about it.

"This mean you're done being pissed off at me?" Hank put to his boy, wrapping his arm up around the kid's shoulder and holding him tight.

"No," Ethan mumbled against his chest.

"Mmm …," Hank grunted. But at least it meant they were at that point too. Guess a lot of days they had to be. Because when you stripped the rest of it away – each other was what they got. Even on the days they were more than a little pissed with the other. But supposed that was allowed when it was family. Love you had for your kid. Kind of love your kids gave back to you even when they wanted to hate you.

Hank's hand moved to check at the plaster on Ethan's spine. They'd put some extra padding and bandaging that time. Without much explanation. Though, Hank was pretty sure the explanation was they'd had a resident in there doing the procedure. Had trouble standing by his kid's bedside enough when they did these spinal taps. He'd been really cringing at some baby-faced doctor doing it that day. But felt like everything was still in place and sticking the way it was supposed to. Though, E tensed a bit at the pressure of his hand tracing over the edges of the medical tape.

"Think you're supposed to be laying on your back," he told the kid – really the ceiling. Just like E was staring down his body and likely off at the wall – the dresser or door. The kid just made a little noise at the suggestion, though. Didn't move. "How's your head doing?" Hank asked instead.

"Not headache yet," E allowed.

"Good," Hank said and moved his hand back to the kid's shoulder. Back to holding him tight. Even though he knew that they still wouldn't really be out of the woods for another day or so. And with E's small body mass, more times than not, he'd fallen into the unlucky group that ended up with the debilitating headaches that onset after these things. Seemed like it didn't matter what it was, E was almost always in that unlucky group.

"What you reading?" E mumbled at him.

"Mmm …," Hank grunted and flapped the book up so his boy could gaze at the cover.

"It good?" Ethan asked.

Hank grunted and gazed at the page he'd left off on. "Decent," he allowed. And he moved his hand again and ran his hand through the thin hair on the side of his son's head. He righted the book a bit more and started gravelling the text to his kid.

E let him for a page or two but when he reached to turn the next page, his kid whispered out of the upright half of his mouth, "Can you tell me a story about mom instead …"

Hank grunted and let the book come down. He tapped it bedside him on the mattress a couple times weighing where that request was coming from and the why behind it. Wracking his brain a bit more to think of an appropriate story for the timing and reasoning that might be the source of the ask. But then he reached and put the book on his nightstand and just held at his kid for a long moment.

"Tell you the spaghetti one before?" he asked.

E was quiet. Still. "About Nonno teaching J and Erin to throw the spaghetti at the wall to see if it was cooked and them not cleaning it up and Mom being mad and having to scrape pasta off the wall forever and a day?"

Hank smiled up at the ceiling at that. "I think she was more mad at her dad about that one. And him leaving out the part about doing the test before you put the sauce on the stuff. And your genius brother and sister not figuring that one out on their own."

He felt E smile softly against his chest at that. "Mom got mad at Grandpa?"

Hank shrugged. "Doesn't everyone get a little pissed off at their parents sometimes."

"I guess …," Ethan allowed.

"Mmm," Hank grunted again but held his boy more. "But that's not the spaghetti one I was thinking of."

"There's more than one spaghetti story …?" Ethan mumbled.

Hank allowed a small smile again. "You marry an Italian and live just off Taylor Street, you're always going to have more than one spaghetti story, Kiddo."

He felt E smile a little bit again.

"One I was thinking of you would've been just a little guy," Hank said. "Likely about the same age at the babies right now. Likely about this time of year too. Had your Uncle Al and Aunt Meredith over for dinner. Lexi. Probably one of the first times we'd attempted to have anyone besides your grandparents over for dinner since you were born. Trying to manage a teen, pre-teen and baby while cooking dinner and being social?"

He made a grunt sound. There'd been a real learning curve when they'd ended up with a third kid and having to redo the baby thing while also doing the parent of teen-agers thing. Him and Camille still – at forty-two and third time go-around – hadn't had the first clue what they were getting into. No parent ever really did – no matter how deep into it you already are. Every kid brings new challenges and just multiples the ones you've already got in front of you.

"Your mom managed the menu that night," Hank said.

"So this is actually a pork roast story," Ethan provided.

Hank smiled at that and rubbed his fingers through his boy's hair again. "No," he said. "She delegated. Everyone assigned something. My orders were meatballs."

"Is this gonna have a like a 'and then she took out my balls' punch line and Mom not realizing what she said?" Ethan said and turned his eyes up to catch his.

Hank allowed a quiet chortle at that and gazed down at his kid. He gave him a smile. "E, your mom was not that naïve. She was a ball buster. With a real good sense of humor. Really liked to mess with people. Put on the act, cast it way out there and then see if you take the bait. Reel you right on in."

"Fishing …," Ethan said.

"Mmm …," Hank grunted and rested his cheekbone against the top of his kid's head. "A real expert fisher." He smiled a little. "She your mom's humor in you a lot. You get that same smirk. Twinkle when you're working at reeling someone in with your bait, Magoo. Your sister too. And all that sass. That sideways look she gives you when she's about to give her punch line too."

"Yea …," E allowed and Hank felt the kid's mouth turn up in a smile grin too. Kid knew exactly what he was talking about.

"'Took out my balls'," he said and gave his boy a little glance. "You come up with that on your own? Or your sister?"

Ethan smiled again. "Sorta Erin, I guess."

"Mmm. You know where that's from?"

And he felt the kid smile more. "SNL," he said.

"Mmm …," Hank grunted and nodded. "Yea."

"Schweddy Balls," he provided and gave him a glance and another grin at getting to say that aloud. "The Christmas special. Jay and Erin showed it to my last year. 'Cuz Alec Baldwin. Since he was like funny before he played Trump."

"Oh, yeah," Hank agreed. "Guy was funny long before he had that easy material to work with."

"And it's NPR. The skit," Ethan said. "So Erin was basically making fun of Jay too. But he was laughing even more than her. Like hard."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed. "It's a good skit. Show was still pretty decent back then."

Even, though, he knew that the skit was a little crude. Maybe cruder than he wanted his fourteen-year-old kid watching last Christmas. But wasn't a little kid. And boys and potty humor. So no harm, no foul. Likely better to know that it'd made his boy laugh. That it'd made Jay laugh then too. That Erin helped both of them do that.

"You watched it?"

"Mmm …," Hank provided. "Sure. Saturday Night Live. That was pretty much a staple when me and your mom were your age. Brand new show then. Funny. A lot of the original guys got their start here in Chicago. Second City. Me and your mom got out to those shows – comedy clubs – sometimes too. Our twenties. College."

"Cretaceous period," Ethan provided.

Hank rocked his shoulder. "Funny …," he mouthed against the crown of the kid's head.

But E only smiled against his chest. Proud of himself. Got quiet, though. "I wish I could remember more stuff 'bout her sometimes. Like stuff like that," he said.

Hank held him. "I know," he allowed. "Me too. But the stuff you can't remember, know you can see parts of her in other people, E. Lots of parts of your mom in you. Your interests. How your mind works. Your brother had lots of parts of her. Temper when he was in his fighting stance. Stubbornness. And your sister. Two of them – your mom and her - real similar personality types. And see bits and pieces of your mom in Henry too. Already getting glimpses of her in your niece and nephew. Those little grins the two of them get. That twinkle in their eyes. You mom managed to pass that on to all you kids. She's still here. Just need to keep our eyes and ears open to make sure we're seeing and hearing her."

E stayed quiet. Real quiet. Real still. And Hank let him. Held him. Waited for where he wanted to go from there.

"So what's the spaghetti story? 'Cuz it sort of sounds like a meatball story," he finally said.

Hank grunted. "So spa-ghet and meatballs. That's the menu," he allowed. "We're all set-up in the dining room. Manage to get everyone seated at the table. We're bringing the food out from the kitchen. Plated the meals. Had to do that around then. Your brother – right in puberty, growth spurt – eating us out of house and home. Your sister – put pasta in front of her at that age and still acting like she had a hallow leg to fill. Both of them – bottomless pits. Let them serve themselves – with guests over – and we wouldn't have been having a dinner party."

Ethan rubbed his cheek a bit against Hank's chest – his heart. Just listening. No comment.

"Think you guys had given your mom a bit of a run for her money that afternoon. Know for sure Justin and Erin were doing their best to go cruising when we had them working on the salad and bread basket in the kitchen. And, your Uncle Al – never failed. Always brought over the chardonnay. Your mom had definitely already had a glass or two before we were getting dinner on the table. And she's talking. Telling some story."

"Likely about fish," Ethan provided.

Hank smiled. "Good chance," he allowed. "And she's doing the Italian thing. Talking with her hands. And there she goes. Manages to dump a whole plate of spaghetti and meatballs right on your Uncle Al's head."

And E shifted to look up at him, a smile tugging at his lips.

Hank nodded at him and gestured at his own head "We're talking a meatball sitting on the top of his head, Magoo. More in his lap. Sauce dripping down his face. All over his shirt. Pasta everywhere. And your mom just standing there with her mouth open – can't even manage to get an apology out. And your Uncle Al just looks at her and goes, 'Sitting me next to the baby, I thought it was him I was going to have to worry about.'"

Ethan smiled and set his cheek back down on the chest. "That's pretty bad. He likely didn't ever let her live that down."

"Sure didn't let her serve the food any other time they were over. Got a whole lot of 'Let me get that for you' from him from there on out. And made sure to stand right over her whenever he was serving food when we were over at their place too. Always told her he'd get her back some day."

"Did he?" E asked.

"Nah," Hank allowed with a small, sad smile. "Everyone knew it was an accident. He wouldn't do that. Helped her clean it up. Actually sat there feeding all the stray noodles he came across to you. Some of the first solid food you had. Spa-ghett served over your Uncle Al."

E smiled thinly against his chest too. But was quiet. They both were. Just lay there for a while.

"Right now Uncle Alvin being gone feels like it hurts way more than … other stuff," E said.

Hank held at him. "It's newer," he said. "Rawer. We need to give it time."

"Do you miss him more?" E asked.

Hank gave that a beat. "Miss him different, Magoo. Has to be different than missing your wife. Missing your son. Missing your mom or your dad. But … Al … we were through a lot together. Was there for me through a lot. Helped me. Understands some things about me, the job …," he shook his head and just held his boy tighter. "Important person to me. Loved him too. He loved you kids a lot. You, Erin, Justin. He did his best to be there for our family. Good times, bad."

And E got quiet again. Hank felt his measured, slow breathing against his side. He felt his kid's ear against his chest and listened for his own heartbeat that he knew Magoo was hearing echoing there too. Felt his skin that was feeling less chilled against his own.

"I don't like when you go at me about stuff about school about like it being my future," he finally whispered. "Or just my future. And like school is some big part of it and not just like some waste of time that basically the law is making me do right now. I just don't like … talking about the future seems so stupid. When I'm not going to have that kind of future. And when … everyone dies, Dad …"

Hank grunted and kept his arm around him. "Everyone dies," he managed to agree. "But none of us can really say with any kind of certainty about when that will be."

"But we do know that my future isn't like … the kinda future people like my age plan about."

"I don't think we know anything real about your future, Ethan," he said. "Just like we don't know what life's going to bring one day to the next. Don't know what kind of medical advances and breakthroughs there's going to be. Don't know anything about much of anything. So we just got to keep living."

"But I don't want to do that by talking about school and future in like the same thought process or whatever."

Hank held at him. "Ethan," he graveled. "That's not what I'm asking of you. I'm just asking you – I'm needing you – to set little goals and milestones so you keep moving forward. Give yourself things to work toward. Things to look forward to."

"Like what …," E muttered. Like there wasn't.

"Mmm …," Hank rasped and held him more. "My list. Simple stuff. These days, starting to look forward to coming up on the holidays with you and your nephews and niece. Some of the stuff we've got planned. Looking forward to us getting an ice fishing trip or two in this winter. Looking forward to Tilly figuring out how to get those legs of hers under her and getting going. Getting to watch your niece and nephew keep growing, learning about the people they are. Looking forward to next fall and hoping H is still liking the hockey thing, getting him into the Jets Sticks and Skates team. Looking forward to your stickball league starting up again in March. Getting to come out to those practices and games. To do some more of the drives for the weekend tourneys. Seeing Notre Dame for the big Grand Slam. Getting to walk on that turf. Looking forward to the both of us hitting that furlough and budget goal so we can do that road trip. Get in the Dinosaur Diamond. Prehistoric highway. Camping. Fishing. See you do a dig."

E gave him a look.

"Sign posts don't have to be college and a fancy job and marriage or kids, Ethan," he said. "Just want you finding things to enjoy in your daily life. Enjoying the people you've got here. Giving yourself things to look forward to and to work toward. That's all I mean when I say think about your future. And, Magoo, whether it's getting to go on a research dig, working some gig at Field, fixing cars in a shop, or running a side hustle of cabinets and carpentry – I'm still going to feel that finishing out your high school education and having the perseverance to get that done – it's going to help you. And it's not going to be something you regret. It's not a waste of time. And it's going to impact your future – whether it's seven years or fifty-seven years you get."

"It makes it sound like you still think I'm not trying," E whispered. "When some things I'm doing real good in this year."

"I know," Hank allowed and squeezed at his shoulder. "And I'm real proud of some of the grades you're bringing home. Real impressed with some of the subjects you're excelling in. Things you're talented at. You've got skills, Magoo. I just need you to take care of yourself. To be honest about how you're feeling. About where you're struggling. And to talk about it with me – and other adults around you – so we make sure you're getting the help and resources you need. We all know you ended up with a shit hand, Ethan. You don't need to be making choices to make things any harder on yourself. None of us want that for you."

"Iggy's makes it harder for me …," E said.

Hank massaged at the kid's shoulder. "I know," he allowed. "And, E, if that's something you feel we've got to talk about and find a resolution to. Than you need to tell me that too. I hear you. I see the workload. I'm feeling pretty bowled over trying to help you keep up with it too with my own workload and what our family's dealing with too. And I know the history at the school and some of the fucking kids aren't making any other dynamic there any easier."

His son's eyes caught his. They stayed. "Does that mean you'll let me transfer?"

He put his hand in his son's hair again and made sure to keep his head angled to have his eyes. "Means I'm willing to talk about it and hear you out. That maybe we can see if we can figure out some better option. But, Ethan, don't know there really is one. Because I've been working to get a handle on that for years now. But we're just in a bit of a situation that we might have to keep mucking through best we can. But that doesn't mean we can't talk about it. Doesn't mean I don't want you to talk to me about it. Actually need you to be talking to me about it."

"Mom wanted me to go to Iggy's," E said flatly.

Hank allowed a little nod and kept his eyes. "Me and your mom wanted you kids to have opportunities we didn't have. We worked hard to try to give them to you guys. But maybe me and your mom should've listened more to what Erin and J were telling us about their experiences at that school. And I'm willing to listen to you now, E."

Ethan moved his head a bit away from his grip and set his cheek back against his chest. Got still again.

"Caroline invited me to a Halloween party," he said quietly after a bit. "I think that's something I'm looking forward to."

Hank set his cheek back against the top of his kid's head. "Think that's a pretty decent thing to be looking forward to."

"I think that Caroline's a pretty … just a neat person," E said even more quietly. "And I really like her as a friend. But I don't know if I like her any other way really yet. And I think she kinda likes me other ways."

Hank grunted. "Maybe," he allowed. Though, didn't think there was a lot of maybe about it. "But I also think Caroline's dealing with a lot and likely just wants a friend these days too. And that going on a half-ways date doesn't got to mean you're dating."

"But is that leading her on …?" E muttered.

"Think you should let her know you see it as going to a party together as friends, not a date," Hank provided.

"You said before you and Mom did lots of things as friends and weren't dating but that it ended up pretty much being kinda dating," E mumbled against him.

Hank grunted. "Ethan, think you'll find out that a lot of high school stuff ends up being friends kind of dating but not. Just go have fun with your friends. Sure there will be other kids at the party you both know too for you to hang out with."

Ethan got quiet for a while again. "I think she sometimes forgets I'm older than her."

Hank smiled at that. Knew at that age a year – freshman versus sophomore – made a bit of a difference. But in grand scheme of things, "Don't think it really matter, Magoo."

"I think everyone forgets that I'm fifteen sometimes …" he said.

Hank stroked the back of his head. "Think your family wishes you had more fifteen-year-old-like problems for us to help you deal with. Dating and party advice sounds like a good start."

E gave him a small smile at that.

Hank poked at that little dimple of his. "Down the road, E, you're going to be glad for that baby face. Look at M. J. Fox there. Guy's my age and the man only started to look like he's in his forties the last few years."

"He's got neuro problems too," Ethan said.

Hank grunted.

"And his is some weird one too. Like he got some type of Parkinson's that you only get when you're young and most people get it when they're old," E said.

Hank allowed another grunt at that. And E looked up at him again.

"It's funny too you said that 'cuz I was sorta thinkin' that if I go with her I think I'd go as Marty McFly. 'Cuz going as Dr. Grant would be waaaaaay too basic."

Hank ruffled his hair a bit at that.

"Caroline likes '80's stuff," he provided. "And she likes Teen Wolf. Like the '80's movie, not the TV show."

"Didn't know there was a TV show," he said.

"There is," Ethan muttered. "But Michael J. Fox is in the movie too. I think she has a crush on him in that movie."

"Ahh …," Hank allowed and held at him again. "What's Ms. Caroline going as?"

"Eleven," Ethan said.

"That a cyborg or something?" he feed him.

Ethan gave him a look. But Hank knew what an 'Eleven' was. "It's the girl in Stranger Things," he mouthed at him.

"Ahh …," he provided again. Let him have his teen-aged superiority moment.

And then the kid was quiet again. Longer this time. Long enough and quiet enough that Hank was thinking of urging him back to his room for a second-try at light's out. The hope that both of them might get a decent night's sleep. Which never much seemed to happen.

"Are you gonna take me to the exchange next week?" Ethan finally asked. "Or are you still real mad?"

Put his hand back up on the back of his head again. "Not mad," he provided. Didn't think he really needed to at that point – but sometimes kids this age needed that repeated reassurance that no matter what shit they pulled you were still there for them until the wheels came off and than some. "But I'm going to ask Erin if she can manage this one."

E's eyes set on him. He gave him a nod.

"Took today, Ethan," he said. "We've got a couple burners at work right now. Don't know how they're going to go. And was supposed to be taking your Aunt Trudy out for her 25th lunch that day too."

E allowed a sullen nod and stilled again, until he mouthed against him, "I'm not sure I really understood stuff today."

Hank grunted and moved to hold him again. It'd been a day. A long day. "Think the takeaway was that your spine looks OK but there were some spikes in your lab work that mean your body's dealing with some inflammation. And we've got to keep our eyes on that in case we're dealing with an infection or the starts of a flare."

E's cheek rubbed against his chest. "I meant the medicine he was talking 'bout."

"Mmm …," Hank allowed.

"He made it sound good," E whispered. "But I didn't really understand either."

Hank grunted. He didn't either. Every fucking appointment like this he came away wishing Camille was there. Her scientific mind would've known exactly what was being said. Would've understood the basics of how this stuff was supposed to be working. The physiology and the chemistry of it. Would've known immediately what questions to ask. Hank always felt like he ended up having to come home and do his own research to end up trying to get the docs back on the horn to ask his questions and express his concerns after he'd had time to wrap his head around what they'd just spat at them both.

"Do you think we should try it?" E asked and Hank gazed at him. He'd noticed the 'we' in that sentence. Wasn't sure if E had meant to include that or not. But it'd been a while since there'd been a 'we'. There'd been a whole lot of 'I' when they talked about his medical situation and choices. Which was hard to deal with as a father – and when the patient was your teenaged kid.

So he held at his son. And he stared at the ceiling and he measured again and decided how to manage to respond.

"Ethan, I think it's your choice," he said, moving to keep his son's eyes. "But I think when we talk using words like 'future' and 'goals' and 'milestones' – when we're thinking about how to get you to them and how to manage your quality of life, I really think that we're going to have to be willing to take some risks and just be open to trying some of these things that get offered to us and see what happens. We what works best for us – best for you – in getting some kind of plateau and comfort level for your functionality."

E looked at him. "It's just off-label, right? That's what he said? I'm not an experiment this time? It's not a trial?"

"That's what I heard," Hank agreed.

E's cheek rubbed at him. "It sorta sounded like it will suck Schweedy Balls getting on the med, though …"

Hank allowed a thin smile and just held him. "Pretty sure that way things are right now are sucking some Schweedy Balls too."

And Ethan just let out a long exhale and settled more against him. His forehead resting on his chest now to the point that Hank could feel the kid's eyelashes against his skin and his eyelids drift closed.

And he just let him. Let him try to sleep. Let him rest.

He reached and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. Tucked the blanket firmer around him and held him tight – his hand pressing against the plaster of the lumber puncture. Because if E needed the skin-to-skin – the comfort and him being there in that moment – he'd do his best to press in and make sure the lack of laying on the back didn't mean a CSF leak headache too. They had enough headaches as it was. Enough to deal with.

But still knew that the sun was going to come up tomorrow. Just like he had to hope – had to help – his son to keep on getting up and doing the same.


	28. Repetition

**Title: Little Moments**

 **Author: ZombieJazz**

 **Fandom: Chicago PD**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series. As have Mattie, Eli, and Henry.**

 **Summary: This is a collection of stand-alone scenes from the past, present and future of the AU that has been established in the Interesting Dynamics series. Scenes are not chronological, nor is there an overarching plot. This collection of chapters is not likely to make much sense to readers who have not read the Interesting Dynamic series.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes, Aftermath, So It Goes, The Way From Here, Hereafter, Onward Thankfully and Spring Forward (the story From the Get should be considered separately from this collection and does not influence where the characters are). There will also be occasional spoilers from (and references to) things that have happened in episodes from all seasons for the series, including S06 when it starts.**

Erin rested her head against the door for a long moment as she closed it behind Olive and Henry. She'd give Olive this – she'd been around the family (and Jay) long enough that as much as she could run her mouth (and stick her food in her mouth), she also knew when to just shut up and give people space. Though, Jay's body language had more than said that he didn't want to hear any kind of condolences or field any kind of questions or pleasantries. He hadn't even managed to get out a 'thank you' to Olive for watching the babies. But Erin had dealt with that on both their behalves. And really, she fully expected when she went back upstairs she would be getting close to the same kind of body language as Olive had received. She pretty much had while they were at the hospital too.

It'd been a long afternoon. After a long day. It was going to be a long few days ahead. And she knew that it was going to give way to long weeks and months. Maybe even years. Or a lifetime. This was going to have fallout. It was going to take time and healing. And work. Some of which she wasn't entirely sure Jay was ready or willing to put in. Not on himself – and not for this. That he wasn't ready, willing or able to deal with some of this. To confront the past in that way. Or let himself wallow in it. He'd see it that way. Wallowing and self-pity. And he'd rather just bury it and hide it. Try to ignore it and pretend it didn't happen. To act like it was just something that happened – but it wasn't who it was. That it didn't define him. And she both agreed – and completely disagreed – with him on that. His childhood – his family – had made him the person he was. The good and the bad parts. But both those good and bad parts made up the man she loved and the man she'd decided to make a family with.

Erin knew she was going to have to just keep fucking reminding him of that. That he was good enough. For her. That she loved him. Needed him. Wanted him. For who he was and what he was. Despite what he had been through. That it didn't scare her. That she could handle it. What she was having more and move trouble handling was him not letting her in. Him continuing this act that he was OK – or like she had any sort of delusion that he was over any of it … his childhood, the abuse, his father, his brother, the cancer, the loss of his mother, Afghanistan, the Rangers, the job now. You don't get over any of that. You learn to live with it. You learn coping strategies and techniques. It was a fucking constant effort. It wasn't something you just got better from. You had to work at it your whole fucking life. She knew that too.

And she knew that it was a concept that Jay continued to struggle with. Even now. And he hated – nearly despised – whenever she put that in front of him. Like the fact that he still needed help was some kind on indication of failure. So if he couldn't – wouldn't – do that for himself. He wouldn't do it for her. Or for them. She fully intended to keep pulling the father card. She hated – nearly despised – herself for doing that. Because it almost felt like she was going to be dangling in front of him that he didn't want to be his father. But he didn't And she didn't want him to be. And she wanted their kids to have better than either of them had. Jay did too. And she knew he would – he'd make himself – put in the work for them. She was just going to have to remind him of that sometimes. Maybe at the expense of their relationship (hopefully temporarily). But for the good of Eli and Mattie. For Jay's relationship with them. For who he was as a man and a father. For his own sake – and health.

Because they'd gotten so fucking lucky that day with his health. That he'd walked out of Med with just some bad bruises and stitches. The minor injuries didn't come close to matching the mental and emotional mess that this had left in its wake. Pat's death. Jay's decision, impulses and actions. That might was well be a slow internal bled. The kind that the doctors aren't able to spot – or help – until it's just too late. So she was going to have to be the one spotting it – stopping it and correcting it. It was part of her job description. It was what she was in the long haul for. The good, the bad, and the ugly for this relationship – man, family – she'd picked for herself.

Jay just made it so hard sometimes, though. He hated letting her in. He hated admitting that he needed her – as much as she needed him in moments like this. Generalized statements outside of – and away from – the crisis he could manage to acknowledge that they needed each other, that they were better together. He could thank her for having his back. He could accept her as his partner. But in the amidst of any of it – he wanted to be … his own man? A man? A loner? Sometimes she didn't know.

A soldier thing? A cop thing? A guy thing? Like some how letting her see weakness made him weak. Still. After everything they'd been through.

It was a constant battle. It was one of the biggest fucking road bumps in their relationship. In them being a couple. In them being a family.

And sometimes she didn't think he realized by his insistence that he always had to be the strong one ended up making her feel like she was the weak one. And that pissed her off too. Because she wasn't – even though part of her wanted to tick off all the ways she was. But she wasn't. And Jay trying to be stoic – when he really wasn't, she knew that too – made her feel like, sometimes, she was always ending up in positions where she needed 'saving'. Like she needed to be rescued. Like he was setting himself up to be the hero. And she was some sort of damsel in distress that needed him to fix her problems. To be that hand always pulling her out of the holes she seemed to fall in.

But the thing was Jay found himself in enough holes of his own. And sometimes – a whole lot of the time – it felt like he made it a whole lot harder than he needed to for them to get him pulled out of it. Because he just fucking refused to call out for help. He preferred to be alone down there. He'd rather keep scurrying up the edge and slipping back down and flailing around in the fucking dirt that just take her fucking hand.

It was going to be hard right now.

She was more that willing to be reaching down to him. She was willing to help pull him back up. But it was because she also needed to.

She needed him to work through this without it turning into one of their things – or one of his episodes. For him to use it as an excuse to push her away. Which, right now, she knew would put a real strain on their relationship and the family life they were trying to make. It would be a nail in the coffin when they'd been working at getting pretty close to breathing life back into making things real again. On paper and not just playing house. Not just friends with benefits – and the kids to show for it. But she could see how this was going to send him spinning. And send him digging too.

But she couldn't have that. The twins couldn't have that. There was too much at stake.

She needed a functional – level – partner at home. And it wasn't that she didn't think she could pull the weight with the babies on her own for a while. If she needed to – or if it came to that.

She knew how to do that. She'd had to raise Teddy more than any kid her age should've (but look how that turned out). And she'd had to take care of Ethan and Justin for a whole lot of time while Hank spun out on his own. And then again for Eth when both of them ended up in fucking jail. She had to fucking raise herself in a whole lot of ways – because Bunny. She knew how to take care of kids.

She was taking care of her babies now – for hours of every day, for days in a row – with Jay back at work. She could keep it up if this turned into a thing. If Jay let this turn into a moment for him. Or them. And she knew he had a right for this to be a thing – and a moment – in his life. This was more like a collision into some sort of milepost than passing one on the road in life – the loss of a parent.

But the thing for her was – that's not what she signed up for. As much as she had – she'd made her own choice about seeing the pregnancy through with or without Jay in the picture. But he'd made a commitment and he'd stood by it so far.

These kids had a father. They were working on their relationship. They were a family. They were making it work. So right now – Jay needed to keep working on making this fucking work. Even while he dealt with this. They both needed to keep that in their minds too.

The babies needed that in their father too. None of them could do any of this on their own right now. Not her. Not Jay. And not the babies. They were still too little. Too sick. Too weak. Too needy. Times two too.

They all needed each other. They needed to work through this together. They needed to all grow up together.

And Jay giving her the line that he loved her. That he loved Eli and Mattie – it wasn't enough.

She knew that. He loved her. She knew the twins could feel it too. And she knew Jay's love language was being 'the man' in the relationship – as much as she didn't need him to be that.

Jay didn't need to be the hero. He didn't need to be the provider or the supporter or the comforter. She appreciated having that in her life – and him playing the role for her sometimes – when she needed it too. But it had to be shared roles. Because that's what they were. They were partners.

He needed to remember that. She needed him to remember that – and respect that right now.

She needed him to let her see him cry another time. To let her hold him and comfort him another time. To talk to her. To let her help him work through this.

But she kept having the feeling she was going to go upstairs and right then – and over the next days of funeral prep and dealing with the wake and condolences and the estate and grief and mourning and … Will – there were going to be consistent moments where he was going to try to tell her that she couldn't handle it. Or that he didn't need to talk about it.

All these fucking things he didn't talk to her about. Bits and pieces that came out of him over the last … nearly seven years.

Seven years of knowing each other. Of being partners – friends – in some capacity – and this was still what it was. What they were. Where they were at.

And right now she wasn't sure – or was very sure – that Pat dying wasn't going to make that any easier. Or better. It wasn't going to be an about-face. Or a resolution. It wasn't going to be some kind of cathartic moment for Jay. Or for their relationship. It wouldn't be a watershed.

But maybe it should be. Now. With the babies. With their own life. Their own family. Their own fucking relationship.

Maybe it could be. If they worked on making it that too.

Neither of them were their parents. And as much as their childhoods had fucked both of them up – they needed to be worried about not fucking up two other people's childhoods in how they navigated this now.

She exhaled slowly and raised her head. Made sure it was on right. And she went upstairs.

Jay was sitting on the floor with the babies on either side of him. Their legs and arms going as they lay on their backs.

Mattie was working on rolling over – she much preferred tummy time anymore – and Jay was careful monitoring that while giving EJ long glances and stroking his finger down the sole of his little foot. It was eliciting more fist punches in the air but he still hasn't coordinated himself enough to rollover and get away from Daddy's tickles. Though, Erin also suspected maybe he didn't want to.

She let herself go and sit with them – lowering herself to the ground and crossing her legs. It was only then that Jay gave her a look – pulling his eyes away from the babies. And they were red rimmed again. Tired. And drying streaks were again trickling down his cheeks.

He'd been crying again – but had managed to turn them off before she came back upstairs.

She gave him a weak smile. It was more of a frown. He hadn't had to do that. But that was him. She could see him almost buzzing that afternoon with how hard it was working to hold himself together. And it wasn't working. His eyes got redder and redder while they were at the hospital. His shoulders hunched more and more as he closed in on himself. And every twenty minutes or so he was pawing at his eyes, trying to bat away tears that kept slipping out.

She reached and placed her hand on his knee. She let it sit there. He stared at it for a long moment like the touch felt confusing and foreign. He'd done that a lot at the hospital too. Though there'd also been points where he grabbed at her hand and held so tight. There were only two other times she could pinpoint in their relationship that he'd gripped onto that firmly – Terry's funeral and in those moments in the OR when everything with the arrival of their babies was going sideways. The parts she could almost remember before it all just became a sedated blur and blackout.

At the hospital he'd held at her hand that afternoon and managed to mumble at her that his dad had squeezed his hand. That he'd squeezed his hand – but Will had said it was just a reflex. That it didn't mean anything.

And she hadn't known what to say to him. Because she'd had those moments. She'd sat at Ethan's bedside with him in a coma for weeks and weeks. And she'd felt him twitch and move and grips change too. And she'd been told the same thing. Reflexes. That it didn't necessarily mean he'd come out of it. That he'd live. But he had. Though, she had Justin as a reference point too. And he hadn't. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

She hadn't been at the hospital with Jay to have any sense of the what-ifs and maybe that might've been if they'd waited on the life support. She had to trust that he and Will had heard what the doctors said. That Will was educated enough to make a choice that made sense. That they'd made the decision in the moment – they'd waited an amount of time with medical advice and readings and tests that gave them as much information as they could have – that was the best they could manage.

And the choice you made – that was the choice you all had to live with. Because that was the reality. It wasn't an option or decision that could be undone.

But she also knew that Jay knew that. He knew what the doctors were saying to him. He'd watched death before. She was sure he'd held hands of other men who were dying. He'd felt the involuntary reflexes and bodily reactions that came with death – and in the moments leading up to dying. The sometimes very long ones.

But it was different when it was a loved one. Even if that loved one was someone you had a tumultuous relationship with.

"I'm sorry …," he managed at her.

She shook her head at him. "Don't be," she said. For all the things he had to be sorry for – she didn't think it was any of those he was apologizing for in that moment. And even if they were, she didn't feel like she was the one who needed an apology right now. And even if she did, right now what really needed to happen was forgiveness. So Jay could find it in himself to forgive himself too.

Erin moved her hand and did her own tickle down Mattie's spine. Their baby girl twisted her neck to gaze at her. There was a bit of a squint in it. All kinds of attitude already in their little girl. You could see it a mile away. And it made Erin smile – even though she sometimes cringed internally at it. Because she knew that eventually all that was going to be biting her in the ass. Karma at play right there.

Mattie wasn't big on being teased. Ever. But Erin gave her a little smile and reached and picked her up pulling her into her arms and lap. She bounced her a bit and then turned her so she could see her daddy. So Jay could see her too. But he'd turned his attention back to EJ with some more quiet contemplation.

Erin had some fears about that too. Projection. And it might be a slippery slope. If Jay's relationship with his father hadn't affected the way he was parenting enough – what he wanted his relationship to be like with his son – it was going to pour out even more now. She could feel it. And it might turn into pressure that Jay couldn't handle. A pedestal he built for himself that he'd never be able to climb up on – even if he wasn't living in a hole. And that might cause a lot of unnecessary anxiety.

"I told Will he was a bad brother," Jay mumbled. She wasn't sure if he was telling her or their son.

But it was Erin who shrugged. "I've seen definite examples that suggest he has room for improvement."

Jay let out a slow exhale and met her eyes. But then he met Mattie's. She gurgled for him. Her little arms and fists beat in the air. She wanted Daddy. Maybe she could tell Daddy needed that. Erin was learning that as much as you had to do a whole lot of cuddling and comforting of the babies just as part of daily life of raising them and caring for them – that the cuddling and comforting could do wonders for your own mood too. It could help in this weird calming way that she didn't quite understand – because she didn't think she fit in that kind of category of woman either. But she'd felt it. Some sort of ingrained part of your nature and instinct.

And maybe Jay recognized that too. Or had felt it on his own in the past. Or at least he had himself together enough to see that his little girl wanted him – not her – right then.

He reached and took her from Erin. But as he did his eyes welled up again. And he adjusted the girl in his arms so he could try to swipe them away.

"You don't have to do that," Erin told him.

"I don't know …," he muttered and looked at their girl. Like he was somehow trying to express that he didn't want their daughter to know he cried. He didn't want her to see him cry.

But Erin wanted Mattie to see it. She wanted Eli to see it. Not just now. Through their whole childhood – so they could have a reference point. They could grow up knowing a father who showed emotions and was able to let his family see them. So their kids could learn ways to show and express their own emotions. So they could grow up knowing that strong, brave men like their daddy were allowed to cry - and did cry sometimes. So Mattie knew to look for that in a man. And so Eli knew he could cry and feel sad and grieve and mourn – and still be a man. That they were human. They were allowed to struggle and hurt – and just feel. That there were ways to deal with that and express that. That their family could handle – and share – any and all those emotions together. To celebrate or cope with all of them. They needed to. They needed to teach their kids that. Neither her or Jay had really been taught that. And look where it'd gotten them.

"Jay," she pressed gently. "I can handle it. They can too," she added with a nod at their babies.

And he stared down at Mattie again and then EJ.

"They're strong," she said. "To get this far – they're strong. It's in their genes."

He gave a weak, thin smile. "Their mom's," he offered.

"And their dad's."

And he stared at the babies some more. "Do you think they'll be good to each other?"

She sighed and shook her head with another little shrug. "We'll teach them as best we can."

He looked at Mattie. "You need to be good to your brother," he whispered at her.

Erin smiled weakly again and reached at shook at Mattie's foot. "She is," she assured. "Our ring leader."

Jay allowed a quiet amused sound. "Yea …," he allowed. And his free hand stroked at the sole of Eli's foot again. "And you need to be good to your sister so she doesn't get you both in all kinds of trouble."

"Mmm …," Erin allowed. "Think he'll only be Jiminy Cricket to a point."

Mattie was already showing a tendency to charge ahead. She didn't know if that was from her showing in their daughter – or if it was Jay's leadership, lead the way, tendencies. But even if EJ was a step behind – the way he was already doing things showed they had a bit of a problem solver on their hands. A problem solver that was good at finding trouble in his missteps and repeat. Some things just weren't coming as easily for Eli. But he still found a way. Life found a way. He preserved. And he persisted. And so far he was managing to keep up – slow and steady – with his sister. He was getting there. Just taking a different route. But Erin kind of liked that. They were their own people. And their own kinds of trouble makers. A different kind of pain in the ass from each other. Already.

"I don't want them to be like … me and Will."

Erin shrugged a bit. "They won't be," she said. "They'll be them." He gave her a look. It wasn't what he wanted to hear. But she didn't know what he wanted to hear or what to say. "I don't know, Jay. They aren't you and Will. They aren't me and Justin."

"I'd take you and Ethan," he mumbled.

She frowned a bit and stared at the twins. She shook her head. "They're not going to be that either," she said. "Twins – it's different. It already is."

"Brothers and sisters," he muttered. "Has to be better than brothers …"

She shrugged. "It has its own challenges."

"At least they won't have to deal with an older sibling who doesn't know how to be an older sibling …"

"They'll have to deal with a cousin and uncle who might not know how to be either of those things," she provided.

"At least they're trying."

"Will tries, Jay," she offered. "He's just Will. Just like Justin was just Justin. And most people just generally aren't great at … a lot of human existence sometimes. We have our moments too."

He gave her a look. But not a comment. There likely wasn't the need for one. And it was likely just an added layer that neither of them really wanted to get into. Ways they'd both sucked as siblings. Or as a son/daughter. As partners – significant others. As a couple. As supposedly future spouses.

Jay's gaze, though, just drifted back to Mattie. She just kept on batting at his chest and gurgling at him. Trying to get his attention and keep it. And Jay almost smiled at her. But Erin could see his eyes glassing again – whatever was going through his head. That he – again – wasn't sharing with her.

"I'm pretty sure you're going to think she's the big sister," he muttered at their daughter.

Erin allowed a thin smile at that. "She does have a few minutes on her brother."

"Twelve minutes," Jay near whispered. "That felt like about twelve years."

Erin shook her head and reached – caressing their daughter's soft, chubby cheek before running her fingers down the significant stubble on Jay's face. The kind that she knew was likely going to grow over at least the next days – if not weeks or months – because he always got lax about the shaving when he was on one of his tumbles. She didn't think he even realized it was on of his visual tells.

"Don't go there," she nodded at him. And while she was rocked up on her knees, she reached over him and retrieved their little boy. "He's here. He's happy. He's healthy."

Jay watched them that time as she settled back next to Jay and his Mini Me (appearance-wise – the debate on who's personality traits dominated was still ongoing and slowly revealing itself, likely for years to come). Eli wasn't too sure he wanted to be being held by her. But that was pretty much par for the course when Daddy was in the room and seen as a viable option. EJ already had figured out if he put on a good show – and a real good fuss – while Jay was around he'd get the attention he wanted from who he wanted. That would likely also come back to bite them in the ass eventually.

Jay reached and gave their son his finger – watching Eli's hand grip around it tightly and giving that little fist a little shake and a smile.

"You're too stubborn to take any of Mattie's sass, aren't you?" he said to his son.

Erin made a little noise at that. "I think they'll be equal pains in each others asses," she said. They already were. They loved being together – one second. And where annoying the crap out of each other the next – inducing wails, shrieks and red-faced tears.

"At least them taking turns about who gets to play big and little roles will make sense," Jay said.

Erin shrugged. "As much as any sibling relationship and dynamic ever makes sense," she suggested. Because she wasn't sure they did. At least they hadn't for her. And she didn't think they had for Jay for most of his life either.

Jay's phone vibrated in his pocket and he shifted a bit to get it. He cringed with the movement – favoring his ribs as he adjusted Mattie into his lap and she started pressing her little fists into his shirt.

Erin reached for her. "Let's not beat up on Daddy." But Jay kept his grip on her – not wanting to let go. Though, as he gazed at the phone's screen he cringed even more. "What is it?"

"Will's willing to play the elder sibling on the funeral arrangements. Keeping up appearance. As usually," he muttered. And kept staring – glaring – at his phone as it dinged again. "He wants to do the whole Catholic funeral thing. A fucking Irish wake. He's trying to contact the entire fucking old neighborhood. People Dad hadn't talked to for decades. Like I have any of their numbers or contact info."

Erin reached and took the phone from him. His brow was creasing and his anger was rising again. He didn't need to go there right now. He gave her a long as she tugged the phone from his hand.

"Let me handle it," she said.

"No one needs to handle it," he said with that tone again – the one he reserved for Will in more cases than not. "That's what obituaries are for."

She kept his eyes. "Then you definitely don't need to be reacting to it right now either."

He held her eyes for a long beat but then let her take the phone. His hand dropping away – and back to their son. Starring at him more while Mattie pawed at his chest.

"He wants to do the service at the old parish," Jay mumbled. "Like I ever wanted to go back there."

She nudged forward again and put her hand back on his knee until he looked. "You don't have to explain to anyone if want to – need to - skip either of those things. The visitation. The planning. Any of it."

His eyes got redder. "And what kind of son does that make me?"

She held his gaze. "I know the answer to that question. And so do you. Whatever blanks anyone else is filling in – don't matter, Jay."

He shook his head and went back to looking at the babies. "Will wouldn't let me—"

"I'm not worried about what Will thinks," Erin pressed firmly. "I'm worried about you. And all of us getting through the next bit."

He picked at a little ball of fuzz on Mattie's sleeper. Used when they got it. Through the wash so many times already. It was covered in little balls of fabric from the wear and tear.

"We aren't taking them to any of it," he said quietly. "He didn't want to acknowledge them. I'm not putting them on display for all these …"

"That's fine," Erin said.

"It's not," he mumbled but found her eyes. "None of this is fine."

"But it will be," she tried.

He shook hishead. "All this bullshit," he said and stared with watery-looking eyes again at their kids. "All this bullshit that I've been trying to put behind me. And now – it's just not."

She nudged closed to him again – pressing her knees against his as much as she could. Touching the one with her free hand. Rubbing her thumb into the crease of where it was bent.

"Jay," she assured him. "You can handle this. We can handle it – together. We just have to keep talking. Communication, right? It's what we've been working on. It's what we need to do to make this work. It's how we're going to work through this together. Alright?"

He shook his head a little and exhaled. It wasn't a no. She knew that. But it also wasn't close to agreement on how they were going to handle any of it.

"I love you," he near whispered. He wasn't looking at her.

She gripped at the ridge in his jeans were his legs crossed. "I love you too. A ridiculous amount. It's how we're going to get through this." She gave his knee a little shake. "I'm ready to carry you – kicking and screaming – if I have to."

He gave her a weak smile for that effort. But his eyes drifted and set on EJ.

"I don't want you guys seeing me – learning things about me – that you can't be proud of. Things I'm not proud of," he said.

Erin touched his cheek again until he managed to pull his eyes away from Eli and stare at her. The watering was happening again.

"Jay," she pressed at him. "I am proud of the man you are. I'm proud to call you my friend. My partner. My fiancée. I'm proud to call you our kid's Daddy. And the kind of dad you already you. They are going to be proud to have you as their father. Anything I learn about you – that I don't already know, or already suspect – it's not going to make me less proud of you. Maybe it will tell me a little more about how you became the person you are. But, I'm pretty sure that's just going to make me prouder of who've grown into."

He just gave his head this subtle shake again and tried to look at the babies more than her with this quiet exhale.

"We all have parts of ourselves that we aren't proud of," she said. "We all have done things we aren't proud of. I signed up for the good, bad and ugly, Jay."

He gave her a look. "There's poetry for our vows …"

She raised an eyebrow at him and cocked her head. "Thought it was slightly more poetic than telling you I was in until the wheels came off."

"Think we hooked up when the wheels were already off …," he muttered.

"Same …," she provided and bounced his knee – and then their son – a bit more.

He allowed a weak, sad smile and stared at the babies again.

"Hank's planning on coming to the funeral, isn't he?"

"Likely," she allowed.

He found her eyes. "I don't think I want him there."

Erin nodded. "He'll respect your wishes, Jay. Either way."

"I can't handle him doing the father figure thing right now," he said.

She let out her own exhale as she measured how to respond to that. "He can just as easily show up as your boss, Jay – showing his support."

He gave his head a little shake at that. She let her hand rest on his knee again and Eli worked at kicking and pressing his little heels against Daddy's leg too – again expressing who's arms he'd rather be in.

"He genuinely cares about you, Jay," she tried. "It's not about him trying to be a father figure. But, as much as some of us get to pick who are parents are … we also don't."

He caught her eyes – but again there was no comment.

"We both know that family isn't always blood," she offered. "Lean on the team you have."

"Yea …," he allowed.

It was weak and distant. But it was going to be – for a while. Until the numbness passed. She didn't plan on letting the numbness set in.

So she bounced at his knee again and pressed away from him just a bit. "C'mon," she said. "They need their baths."

He liked that. The babies like that. They liked him being there. For that. And all of it. All of them.

That was going to have to be the focus. Little things. Little routines. A day at a time. Until one day it just felt easier. Normal – again. If it could. Or ever was.

But at least then – he listened. He followed suit. And that was a start in the muscle memory. The normalcy they had to find. Or figure out how to get back to. One repetition at a time.


End file.
